When I attended my first dog-training class in 1980, with my first dog, I had little idea of how dog training was done. But I had ridden horses from the time I was seven years old, so I knew about how training classes were conducted. The dog-training class I entered did not seem all that different from the equitation classes I had attended as a kid: participants suited up their animals in the required equipment, got in line, and marched around in a big circle while an instructor stood in the middle of the ring and called commands.
The commands were somewhat different, but basically the dogs (and their owners) were expected to comply with orders to walk forward, stop, change directions, increase speed, decrease speed, stand still. Should the dog fail to comply with orders, it was “corrected”—that is, it was punished, to one degree or another, for doing the wrong thing, long before it knew what the right thing was. In fact, the right thing was taught only by a process of elimination. The dog was “corrected” for every wrong thing it did until there was only one choice left to avoid punishment. That choice was the right thing.
Dogs were physically manipulated into position by being pushed down on their rear ends (for a sit) or their shoulders (for a down). If the dogs failed to stay in the commanded position, they were “corrected” with a variety of physical assaults, ranging from a quick pop on the choke chains around their necks to a full-out “hanging” by the choke chain, when the dog would be lifted off its front feet and dangled from the choke chain at the end of the leash. If the dog was small enough, it would be lifted entirely off the ground so that all its weight hung from the chain around its neck.
If these physical corrections did not alter the dog’s response to a command, the choke chain was often traded for an even sterner collar called a pinch or prong. The prong collar is composed of metal links, each of which terminates in two “prongs” that, when the collar is tightened, dig into the dog’s neck. The point of the prong was, for dogs who would not cooperate on choke chains, to provide a method by which the handler of the dog could punish him even more to achieve compliance.
Prong collars were often also recommended for use on dogs with furry coats, as the choke chain alone was not very effective in punishing the dog because his neck was protected by his fur. The choke chain also wore down the fur around the dog’s neck and could chafe off its metallic coloring as well, leaving a dark mark around the necks of dogs whose fur was a light color. In advanced training, prong collars could be modified to cause more pain by the flat-ended prongs being whittled into points that would poke even more deeply into the dog’s neck.
Imagine now that you had brought your untrained dog to one of these classes. It would have been your dog’s first exposure to being surrounded by a large group of other canines, as these classes were often composed of twelve or more dogs, all shapes and sizes, all ages. Your dog steps inside a big metal building, with no sound baffling, so that every noise, every bark, every human voice, is amplified, especially to his doggy ears. The sights, the smells, the general air of anxiety! Your dog might be overwhelmed within in the first few minutes.
Then, out of the crowd, a person you do not know walks up to your dog and insists that the buckle collar he is wearing, the one that carries his ID, must be removed immediately. He should wear, instead, a metal choke chain, for which you, the dog’s owner, must pay. The stranger might grab your dog’s neck and put the choke chain around it, then show you how to “snap” the leash to make the chain hurt the dog effectively. When that happens, your dog—who has been doing nothing but be anxious and unsure—will have experienced his first physical correction . . . for what? For nothing.
Next, you are told to drag your dog (for what else can you do, the dog knows nothing yet) out onto the training floor, in a line with all the other dogs in the class, most of whom are feeling the same way your dog is by this time: confused and worried at best, but more than likely terrified.
You are ordered to walk around that big noisy room in a circle with all the other dogs and, when your dog pulls on the leash, for whatever reason, you are told you must “pop” the choke chain so the dog feels pain. It’s called a “correction,” but it is really punishment. The dog is never taught what to do; the dog is taught what not to do—and he is being taught that through your hurting him. He is being taught with pain. You are told that is the only way you can teach him “right” from “wrong”—with pain.
Your training class is scheduled for eight to ten weeks. You start that first night in a class of twelve to sixteen dogs. By the third or fourth week of class, on average, a total of four to six dogs have dropped out. By the end of the class, which is often called graduation, you may find yourself standing in that big metal building with a total of four to six dogs whose owners have stuck it out. Then you are tested on a variety of exercises on which you have been drilled. Your dog’s performance is graded in exactly the same way it would be if you participated in a formal obedience competition. If your dog’s score is low enough, or if he does not successfully complete any of the tests, you will be told he failed. Yes, he failed. “My dog flunked out of obedience school,” was a very common saying.
Unfortunately, in that “obedience” class, you have learned little or nothing about any subjects related to living with your dog on a daily basis. Every “problem behavior” your dog exhibits can be “solved” by the use of punishment. Is he too friendly? Does he jump up on people to lick their faces? Wait until he’s in the air and “pop” him as hard as you can with that choke chain. Ideally, knock him off his feet. He won’t want to do that again, you are told. Does he growl at dogs he doesn’t know? Correct him! When another dog comes near and your dog starts to growl, “pop” him hard—that will make him stop. Should you continue to have those problems, should the mild punishment of a choke-chain pop not dissuade him, you will very likely be advised that “he’s just not feeling the pop,” and it will be recommended that you “step up to” a more punitive collar, like the prong. Possibly you will be told you have a “hard case,” and an instructor will encourage you to use the ultimate training tool for punishment, the electronic shock collar. Surely, you will be told, that will fix all your problems.
NOT.
Luckily for us and for our dogs, things have changed radically in dog training since 1980. Sadly for many dogs and owners, many so-called instructors of many so-called dog training classes have not gotten the memo. It is just as possible today to step into a “training class” like the one I have described, where every dog is issued a choke chain or a prong collar that the owner is required to use. In those classes, dogs are still being “taught” that a wrong move on their part means a physical correction, and a physical correction usually hurts.
Even with all the knowledge available today, many so-called “trainers” insist on using exactly the same methods they have used for decades, even though the volume of scientific research that shows that punitive methods don’t work is overwhelming. We now know that the use of a choke chain and prong collar can do irreparable damage to the dog’s body physically. We now know that the use of pain in training can do irreparable damage to the dog behaviorally. We now know that punishment is not the answer. You have to wonder why “trainers” still use outmoded methods that do not work. Certainly you have to ask yourself, “Why would they continue to cause pain when pain doesn’t work?”
What does work?
We’ll talk about that next week.
