A recent discussion on an Association of Zoos and Aquariums listserv, (specifically their ‘training’ list) caught my eye and my keystrokes, and one that has apparently become a commonplace discussion among many bridge trainers. The discussion emerged as a simple inquiry by another list member on whether it was appropriate to use a bridge without being followed by a “treat”, (whether food or some other backup reinforcer). I quickly answered that anything less than a 1:1 pairing would weaken the reinforcing value of the bridge, and put the subject to rest. But a strange thing happened. As I continued to read the posts on this listserv, many other list members took the exact opposite stance: that it was ok to ‘click’ and not treat, and that such ‘click or treating’ may even strengthen the bridge. Astounded by the ensuing discussions and arguments, I decided to gather up the data and attempt a thorough review of what was the appropriate way to go about this business of clicks with or without a treat. The following is the result.
When Kate LaSala told me about her dog’s experience with spray cheese, I knew I needed to share it. I mention spray cheese a lot, as a high value and easy-to-use food reinforcer for my dogs. So it’s only right that I share this caution as well. I have had a few mishaps with cans of cheese with my two more sensitive dogs, but nothing like what Kate and BooBoo went through. No one can predict when something like that might happen, though, and the effects can be far-reaching. Kate and I both advise caution.–Eileen
Guest post by Kate LaSala, CTC
Kate and BooBoo
I see a lot of people using spray cheese in a can, or even whipped cream, as a quick, easy-to-dispense treat. It’s convenient, no mess and no smell until you spray it (so no tipping off your dog with stinky food that she’s about to get something good–so important when you’re training!)
I, like many of you, thought spray cheese was the perfect treat for training. When I was training BooBoo to stay on her kitchen mat (to keep from being under my feet when I’m cooking), I decided spray cheese was going to be my go-to reward. I could keep it in the cabinet by the mat and she loved cheese. So we set out on our training plan and for months we were moving along splendidly. She was happily going to her mat, then I’d open the cabinet where the spray cheese was and bend down to squirt some for her to lick. Everything was perfect, until about 1000 trials in when I went to reward her and “POP…POOF”–an air bubble in the can popped right in her face. She immediately recoiled and ran off to hide upstairs, as far away from the kitchen as possible. I was horrified and instinctively grabbed my treat bag filled with chicken and went to comfort and feed her. I needed to undo this. I managed to coax her out of hiding and we sat and cuddled for a while as I fed her. I thought to myself, “It’s OK. She’ll recover. She was just spooked because it surprised her. She’s got lots of padding after months of working on the mat and with the cheese. It will be OK.”
After a while of sitting, I happy-talked her downstairs and she stopped dead in her tracks at the edge of the kitchen, staring at the mat. So I tossed some yummy treats for her on it. She wanted nothing to do with it. She was clearly still afraid. My heart sank.
I tossed her some treats where she was and she gobbled them up. I decided to just let things be for the time being and hoped that overnight she’d sleep it off and by morning she’d be all recovered.
But the next morning, she still refused to come into the kitchen. She sat on the threshold but wouldn’t enter. I let her be, occasionally tossing her treats. At one point, not really thinking, I went to the cabinet–the same cabinet that housed the spray cheese–and as soon as I reached for it, Boo took off again to hide. It was very clear to me now that she had developed a very strong fear (negative conditioned emotional response or -CER) to the kitchen and the cabinet, all because of ONE spray cheese air bubble. My heart sank again. Suddenly the gravity of it hit me, and the concept that neuroscientist Joseph LeDoux had surmised was in my brain: fear is the easiest thing to condition in animals and the hardest thing to resolve. Months of positive reinforcement training had just been completely undone by one bad experience.
Now we weren’t even just back to square one–we were back farther than that, because now BooBoo had a fear response. I wasn’t training something she was neutral to and that was going to take a lot more work.
So, for the next several months I worked on a DS/CC plan to get BooBoo to be happy on her kitchen mat and not show any fear of the kitchen, the mat, or the cabinet where the spray cheese USED to live. (Needless to say, that was tossed immediately and I’m never buying it again!)
I’m happy to report that after a few months of working at her pace, building positive associations and keeping her under threshold at all times, that I was able to get her peacefully relaxing back on her kitchen mat.
The safer way to present spray cheese
So I’ve got two important takeaways. Always remember how easy fear is to install and how hard it is to untrain. One bad experience can set you back months of work, even if the dog had nothing but positive experiences in that time. And, if you still want to use spray cheese (or anything in a pressurized can), I would recommend squirting it onto your finger or letting it dangle from the can before presenting it into your dog’s face/mouth. Food squeeze tubes like these are a great alternative without the pressurized, potentially scary part.
And, just so you can see, here’s a picture of BooBoo happily on her kitchen mat. I love happy endings.
BooBoo, happy on her mat in the kitchen again
Addendum from Eileen: Spray cheese has gotten hard to obtain in local stores and mail order, so this is what I came up with as a passable substitute. I use a food tube, which doesn’t tend to pop and sputter in dogs’ faces!
Kate LaSala, CTC is an honors graduate of The Academy for Dog Trainers and owns Rescued By Training in Central NJ. She is also a certified AKC Canine Good Citizen (CGC) Evaluator and trainer for the NJ Chapter of Pets for Vets. She shares her home with her husband, John and their two rescue dogs, Mr. Barbo and BooBoo. Kate and BooBoo are a certified therapy dog team, visiting nursing and rehabilitation homes locally. Follow her on Facebook for training tips and helpful information. Also, see Kate’s other post on this blog: “Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever? But We Live in NJ!”
It’s the start of tick season here in the Northeast and I’ve been reflecting on last year’s tick season and how we almost lost our sweet BooBoo. So in the interest of raising awareness and saving lives, I share with you our story.
It was a beautiful Sunday in April 2015, one of the first nice days of the spring. My husband and I decided to take our two rescues, Mr. Barbo and BooBoo, for a hike and before we headed to bed that night, we did our standard post-hiking tick check and everyone checked out clean.
The next day we let the dogs out and as they chased the squirrels, BooBoo’s rear legs slipped and she fell. Did she trip on the pool cover? Maybe her hip dysplasia was acting up after our hike? I wasn’t really sure but she wiped out and then just kept going.
By dinnertime she was non-weight bearing on her right rear leg and I immediately worried she had an ACL injury from her earlier slip. I knew that non-weight bearing was a classic symptom so I put an afterhours call into our vet and immediately started her on some Rimadyl.
Over the next five days she improved and regressed. We brought her to the vet to rule out an ACL injury and our vet suggested we could re-run a Lyme test, even though she had just had one two months ago and even though we use Vectra 3D monthly. We declined the test and suspected it was an injury from the slip that was causing her limp.
Our first red flag that we were dealing with something else came Saturday evening when she was curled up on the couch and whimpered as she adjusted herself. We left a message for the vet saying we would need an appointment first thing after the weekend because the Rimadyl wasn’t working.
But, that plan changed Sunday morning when we woke up and she wasn’t in bed with us. We found her on the floor, lethargic and reluctant to move. She wouldn’t eat, not even her favorite treat and her temperature was well over 105. We rushed her to our local emergency facility, calling ahead so they were prepared to receive her. When temperatures are that high, the chance of a seizure is a real risk.
BooBoo in the hospital
We arrived at the ER and they immediately started cooling her. We explained the weeklong history since our hike and they suggested a Lyme test, as our vet originally did. So we did the in office “snap test” but it came back negative. Despite the negative results, she was symptomatic of a tick disease and they suggested a full antibodies panel and PCR test for all the tick illnesses. We started Doxycycline right away and ran bloodwork and everything came back normal. The tick panel would take several business days for results but if it were a tick disease, the Doxy should start to knock it out. They admitted her for IV antibiotics and fluids to stabilize her and then said we could take her home. After midnight, they called, said her temperature had been stable since 10PM and we could take her home with oral Doxy and Tramadol for pain.
We followed-up with our regular vet on Monday and she agreed with the ER’s diagnosis. BooBoo was on the meds, still lethargic and not eating well but her temperature seemed to be controlled.
But then Tuesday evening her temperature spiked back over 104 again and we rushed back to the ER where they admitted her again, this time for several days. We consulted with the internal medicine specialist to discuss the all possibilities from cancer to autoimmune issues to tumors and other super scary things since the Doxy didn’t seem to be working. We ran additional diagnostics including ultrasound and x-rays and she got the all clear. No cancer. No tumors. All of her organs were the right size and everything looked perfect. A glimmer of good news in a sea of uncertainty. But her fever was still fluctuating and they were struggling to keep her stable. The 5 doctors now on her team were all brainstorming to figure out what was causing our sweet Boo to be so sick.
Later in the week, the antibodies results returned a “high positive” for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. I was thrilled to know what we were dealing with but I was baffled. We hadn’t been in that area of the country, so how did she get it? But then I learned that despite its name, only 5% of the cases were actually from that region1. As I researched, she fit much of the epidemiology. RMSF is called “the great imitator” because clinical signs are often vague and symptoms are often confused with other infections but high fever, joint and muscle pains are usually observed within 3 days of exposure. And with delayed diagnosis and treatment, within days the effect on the central nervous and vascular systems can be devastating including death within a very short period of time. I was beginning to realize how close we were to losing her.
So with the RMSF on the radar, the vets changed the drug regimen within 24 hours she stabilized and we were able to bring her home Friday. The bad news was the PCR test came back negative, which meant either she had been a carrier of RMSF for a long time and it was a red herring that was throwing off what we should actually be treating or that the DNA wasn’t in her bloodstream because it had attached to things like cell or artery walls. Since RMSF typically attacks the vascular system the latter option was a possibility, but we had no way to be sure.
We stayed the course and remained vigilant for any additional symptoms and completed the prescribed 3 weeks of medication. She progressed little by little but never got to 100% by the time the drugs ran out. She was still reluctant to jump up and was still very tentative on the stairs.
So what now? Retesting the tick panel at this point wouldn’t give us any new information. We could do additional diagnostics like joint taps to rule out things like autoimmune polyarthropathy but doing invasive procedures like that brings its own risks. Would she now be lame forever?
We opted to started her on Prednisone to see if her mobility improved. After 2 days of Prednisone, she had mobility improvement but also was experiencing the known side-effects of steroids – increase appetite (not really bad for her at this point) and increased thirst/urination. We continued the Prednisone for months, dropping the dose as advised but noticed that even though we were dropping her dosage, her need to urinate very frequently wasn’t subsiding. This caused our vet to begin to worry about liver, kidney and diabetes risks. We ran additional bloodwork and now her liver values were dangerously high. We continued to step down the Prednisone as quickly as we safely could and added in Denamarin, to help support her liver.
It would take over six months after her diagnosis to completely step her down off the medications before her liver values returned to normal and she got a clean bill of health.
BooBoo feeling good again
So here we are, a year later at the beginning of a new tick season. She’s healthy and happy but is a changed dog and we’ve made changes as a result of this experience. We still hike – our dogs love it and even through almost life ending experience, I wouldn’t want to keep them from that joy. After all my research on RMSF and the recent Powassan virus, I discovered that some of these tick-borne diseases only take a few hours to be transmitted and that is truly frightening to me. Unlike Lyme, where the tick needs to be attached for 24-48 hours to transmit the disease, RMSF can be transmitted in as little as 5 hours. This means hiking a full day and not checking for ticks until before bed will no longer do. We now do a mid-hike tick check every 2 hours if we’re out for a long day in the woods.
As I reflect back on this ordeal, I’ve got several important takeaways that I’d like to share.
Know your dog inside and out. Know how to take your dog’s temperature and pulse. Just like people, dog temperatures vary and knowing what is normal for your dog could help you spot an early warning sign. Know your dog’s normal vitals (body temperature, average resting pulse), appetite pattern, coat texture and sleeping habits.
Be your dog’s advocate. Don’t just wait it out to see if it gets better on its own, as tempting as it might be. Time is of the essence. Seek out care right away and be your dog’s advocate. Don’t wait for organ failure or hemorrhaging – it very well might be too late to treat at that point. Be proactive in the care your dog gets.
Pet insurance. We purchased insurance soon after adoption so there would be no excluded pre-existing conditions. Having the peace of mind knowing that everything would be covered allowed us to focus on BooBoo and do whatever the doctors recommended and not have the financial strain as a deciding factor in her medical care. Yes, the monthly premium is a lot but insurance is exactly for cases like this. We received 100% reimbursement of over $6500 in vet bills (minus our $100 deductible.)
Topical treatments. Although we are generally holistic, we do apply a monthly topical tick preventative. When I approached the manufacturer about how she could be infected with being on preventative every month, even through the winter, they stated it’s only 97% effective in repelling. So some ticks will get through. I suspect we never found the tick that infected Boo because it bit her and then the Vectra killed it, and the tick fell off before we did our evening check. We still use the topical but now also supplement with an essential oil spray. Also, having proof of purchase of tick preventative was necessary for our insurance claims to be paid 100%.
Have a regular vet. As tempting as it is to bounce around to low cost clinics for vaccines, this reinforced how it’s far more important to have a solid relationship with a regular vet, who sees your pet at least once annually, whether they are sick or not. We have an amazing vet and we trust her implicitly. When ER vets were throwing out all sorts of tests and things they could do, we relied on our regular vet’s advice and knowledge of the history of our dog to help us decide a course of treatment. Our regular vet worked in tandem with the ER staff and the specialists, reviewing all the lab reports and treatment plans. They sent her daily updates and reports. It’s easy to be overwhelmed when your pet is in medical crisis and having a regular vet as an ally helps you make decisions and not feel like the ER vets might be taking advantage of your compromised state.
Have an ER vet. You never want to need to use it, but in an emergency you don’t want to lose precious minutes looking up who your closest ER facility is. Know where they are, know how to get there and have the phone number programmed in your phone so you can call them on your way so they’re ready to take you in for a real emergency. In our case, getting Boo’s temperature down was critical to saving her life and preventing a seizure. The hospital knowing we were on our way gave them advance warning to prepare a room for her so there was no delay when we arrived.
I am forever grateful to the medical team that saved our girl but I know our quick action also played a part. Many dogs do not get diagnosed with RMSF until it is too late to save them – until they are hemorrhaging or some other equally awful symptom appears. It wasn’t her time but it easily could have been if I hadn’t taken her temperature or if the ER vets hadn’t started her on drugs at that moment. There are so many things that could have altered our outcome. Our sweet Boo came to us as a feral dog from Kentucky and is now a certified therapy dog and I like to think the world needed her around for a while longer. I hope that others hearing our RMSF story will bring awareness to tick-borne illnesses and help people notice the symptoms early on to help save lives.
For now, we will keep hiking but checking for nasty ticks often and cuddling as much as possible to enjoy every moment that we have left together.
For more information, please check these RMSF resources
Kate LaSala, CTC is an honors graduate of The Academy for Dog Trainers and owns Rescued By Training in Central NJ. She is also a certified AKC Canine Good Citizen (CGC) Evaluator and trainer for the NJ Chapter of Pets for Vets. She shares her home with her husband John and their two rescue dogs, Mr. Barbo and BooBoo. Kate and BooBoo are a certified therapy dog team, visiting nursing and rehabilitation homes locally. Follow her on Facebook for training tips and helpful information.
Copyright 2016 Kate LaSala
Related Post from Eileen
My dog Clara also had Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Here is her story and a video showing her symptoms:
Blanche Axton describes her common-sense approach to training deaf dogs and why she doesn’t use vibration collars.
Spanky was a foster for Speaking of Dogs (see URL in bio below). He had been left in a shelter and was young–a couple of years old. He had clearly been pretty humanely handled. Likely deaf from birth, he was a smart and eager boy.
I grew up with deaf dogs and have fostered many. While I haven’t always had a deaf dog in my home, I’ve had quite a few over the years and consider myself pretty good with them. I’m no expert, but I’m not a rank amateur either. So here are some of my thoughts on working with deaf dogs and why I don’t use vibration collars.
Why No Vibration Collars?
First, I’ve never seen the need. This is, far and away, the biggest reason I don’t use them. I haven’t needed to. They didn’t exist when I had my first deaf dog so we had to use other methods.
I see too many dogs for whom the vibration is an aversive. Let’s be clear, I know they can be used well and conditioned appropriately, but it’s not an easy skill to acquire, requires a fair bit of knowledge about how dogs make associations (often ones we didn’t intend) and requires very good timing.
I read more and more that “deaf dogs must be trained to be safe off-leash and have 100% recall.” I have two issues with that. One, even my sighted and hearing dogs are NEVER off leash where they could get away from me and be lost; and two, no dog has 100% recall. It’s a lofty goal and one I strive for, but all dogs have 100% recall until they don’t….and that’s usually a tragedy.
I mostly have had small dogs and most vibration collars are bulky and awkward (at least they were the last time I looked at them). And they have to fit tightly…..and I don’t like tight collars on my dogs. I like to condition dogs to having my hands in and around their collars and I don’t want anything to interfere with that….so I haven’t used anything on their necks that could ever be a negative for them.
What To Do Instead?
Annabelle came as a foster for Pugalug Pug Rescue. She was 14 and a half. The family had had her for her whole life but were older folks. One had passed away and the other was going into a retirement home and she couldn’t go. She was likely deaf from age.
So….what do I do about deaf dogs? I mostly train them the same way I train my hearing dogs….lots and lots and lots of working on “watch me” and “touch”. I mark and reward HEAVILY for offered check-ins. My marker for deaf dogs is a thumbs up. I also train for check-ins.
I train “touch” early and often….and my hand down, palm out, is the signal for touch and often becomes my recall signal…for hearing and deaf alike. Hand goes down, palm out and the dog comes and touches….and I mark and reward. I mark as the dog moves towards me so they begin to associate the movement to me as the ‘right’ thing to do and I pay heavily when they get to me. I also make sure I have hold of their collar before I reinforce so we don’t get dine and dash—another reason I avoid using collars that could impact negatively on the dog’s perception of my hands near their collar or the collar.
Deaf dogs are never off leash in any unfenced area. If we are in an open area, then they are on a long line. Hopefully, I have worked enough on voluntary check-ins that I can get one offered and I can mark and pay it. I also use a very minor (think light pull and release) leash tug as a distance signal to look back at me. I do this so the dog isn’t startled, and I make sure we have some history with gentle leash pressure being a signal to turn back to me. BUT that follows weeks and weeks of working on offered check-ins.
Theo also ended up at the shelter and also was a foster for Speaking of Dogs, but came to me at age 11 with a grade 5 heart murmur, deaf and only one eye. I adopted him since I knew his adoptability was low. Very sweet old shih tzu.
One of the biggest issues I see with deaf dogs is an exaggerated startle response so I strive to counter condition anything that is already startling (waking a dog up, suddenly showing up by them, some kinds of touches, etc) and I strive NOT to add anything that will cause a startle response. I move slowly and deliberately both literally and figuratively with deaf dogs. I want my movements and my actions to be, if not predictable, interesting and non-threatening. While I think working remotely can work and can be done effectively, I prefer not to do this….I prefer a more hands-on approach. My hands are the delivery method of all things good. They signal food, play, toys, fun.
I’ve never entirely understood why training deaf dogs has been seen as some uniquely difficult or complex skill. It really is no different from training a hearing dog with hand signals. I start all my dogs, hearing or not, with hand signals. And I’m already very quiet with my dogs when we are training (you wouldn’t know that watching any videos I post, but without a camera on me, I’m very quiet). Can you mess up training a deaf dog? Sure. Can it have bigger fallout than with a hearing dog? Probably. But it’s not necessarily a hard thing to do. It requires thought, attention to detail and a knowledge of body language, how dogs learn and striving for positive associations, but that’s pretty much my goal and method with any dog in my care.
About Blanche
Blanche Axton has been involved with dogs her whole life–from the Dalmatians her family raised and showed to working with canine rescue as an adult. Over the years, she has trained some of her dogs in agility, tracking, herding and therapy work. She volunteered as a therapy dog evaluator with Therapeutic Paws of Canada for several years. Blanche currently coordinates Pugalug Pug Rescue, fosters pugs and sits on the Board of Directors. She also fosters for an all breed rescue called Speaking of Dogs. She teaches Basic Obedience, Leash skills, Recall and Recreational Agility at DogGone Right. She is an advocate for appropriate nutrition for dogs, positive focused training and the importance of understanding canine behaviour and communication. She currently shares her home with pugs, a Japanese chin and one ginger cat.
Photo credits:
Spanky the bulldog–Blanche Axton
Theo the shih tzu–Tanya MacAusland Amyote
Annabelle the pug: Jess Albrecht of Wags to Wishes Photography
