It has been a busy week here at the Pawpower Palace. Yesterday, Bristol my fourteen year young retired guide went for her quarterly trip to see her eye specialist.
<"Dr da Costa">
told me that Bristol's cataracts have gotten much worse. She had several tests, and got her tear ducts flushed. She has lost a great deal of her sight and may be totally blind within the year. She has been deaf for a year now, so we are now focusing on techniques which will allow her to live as active and independent of a life as she can. And who better to teach her these things than a deafblind owner. People joke that Bristol just wanted to be like me, since being deafblind is so fun! :)
We are teaching her new tactile cues and I am going to get her a vibrating collar. I also plan to get embroidery on the collar which states that she is deafblind. This way, if she ever gets lost, the person who finds her will understand that she can't hear or see them.
Baylee went with Bristol to the eye vets and got her CERF exam. Her eyes are totally healthy and she is free to keep on training as Mister Pawpower's guide dog! Whew! Three cheers for healthy eyes! :)
In other news, Brooke from the <"Ruled By Paws Gang">
and I are working through Sue Ailsby's
<"Training Levels">
This has been a great deal of fun, and has taught me an awful lot. I also found an awesome iPhone app called See Spot Sit which has a really fabulous training log feature, plus tons of distraction sounds. I'm using these levels to help re-teach Bristol tactile cues.
So far, we are only on level 1. Today I was working on Zen with Mill'E-Max. Zen is the practice of ignoring what you want to get what you want. An example, dog ignores a treat on the ground and gets a click and treat. Keep in mind that this example is the finished behavior and we start much simpler than that.
So this morning I was practicing Zen with Mill'E-Max. I held out a treat, and was counting off five seconds before giving the treat (building duration). Mill'E-Max did a "down" right as I clicked for ignoring the treat. So Mill'E-Max, being the very clicker-savvy dog that she is, decided that I was clicking for ignoring food and laying down. Yikes! this dog out-thinks me! Therefore, I spent the next five minutes trying to click after she ignored the treat but before she went into the "down" so she would understand that I wasn't looking for any other behavior than "zen." Eventually she got it and I learned that dogs have awesome brain skills and that I need to keep on my toes. Dog training sure is fun.
Lastly Laveau has learned a new trick. We keep all of the dog gear-- leashes, harnesses, service vests and the like, in a big wooden cupboard. It is designed to be one of those cupboards in which normal people keep their televisions. It has a big open space where the television would sit. But since we aren't normal people, who don't own a television, we use the cupboard for our dog stuff, since it's right by our front door. Last week, I had taken Baylee to work with me for the day. I was on the way home with a friend and we decided to go for coffee. I texted Mister Pawpower and asked him to bring Laveau out to the car, and I'd swap her for Baylee. That way, Laveau would get to work a bit and Baylee could rest up. I wanted to focus on relaxing at the coffee shop and step out of dog trainer mode for a bit. Mister Pawpower went into the front room with Laveau and reached for her gear. Laveau was so excited to be going out that she leapt from the floor, into the open area of the cupboard, and stood there for Mister Pawpower to put on her gear. He thought that Laveau was so funny that he laughed and laughed. This was enough reinforcement for Laveau so she has now made this little leap a regular part of her day. Just yesterday, I came home from the eye vets, and was swapping Bristol for Laveau for yet another jaunt to the coffee shop. Again, Laveau launched herself from the floor to the cupboard and waited for me to dress her for work. I need to get this on camera, it is so funny. I love working with operant dogs who aren't afraid to do crazy stunts like that! I promise a picture soon
Showing posts with label clicker training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clicker training. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Can't is a four-letter word
This post is for the
<"eighth Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is:
Marching To Your Own drum.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference."
-- Robert Frost
Throughout my entire life, one of the words I've heard most often is "can't." Mostly it's strangers who say the word, but sadly, at other times it's family, friends, coworkers, trainers, or others with whom I have consistent interaction. When someone tells me that I "can't do" this or that, I'm more than likely to see it as a challenge, and not as the warning or the limitation the person has intended it to be. This also holds true for the word "shouldn't" or similar words. I don't want to be told what to do! Even if someone says "can't" and I try and fail, and they are proven right, at least I had the satisfaction of trying and knowing for myself(the hard way) that I really can't do something. And besides, if I'd listened to all of the can't's and shouldn't's I'd never be where I am today.
I am a Deafblind dog trainer with balance problems. My dogs are owner trained, gotten from an animal shelter or rescue, raw fed, minimally vaccinated, and clicker trained. I have been accused by some, of just "needing to be different." But as strange as it may seem, I'm not really like that at all.
Sometimes, life forces us to be different, to take a chance, to try something unheard of because it is the only thing left to try. This is how I came to clicker training. After my in-home hearing/fetchNcarry® dog, Mill'E-Max was attacked by three dogs in under a year, clicker training was the only thing that helped us make any progress. People said that it wouldn't work, they made fun of my use of treats, and said that it would lead to a dog who's only interest was her belly. Thankfully, they were wrong. Clicker training was such a wonderful discovery that I use it with all of my dogs. It works for us, and so I'll keep doing it.
Sometimes, the lesser-known path is chosen because it is the thing that literally makes the difference between illness and health. My now-retired guide Bristol was very ill in her younger days. She was plagued with chronic ear and skin infections, stomach and bowel problems, and inability to maintain a healthy weight. I switched to a natural-rearing approach-- including a raw diet in hopes of prolonging her life and in the hope that it would be able to let her continue working for me. I did it back in the day when most everyone was still feeding feed-grade kibble. I got many questions, and a lot of dyer warnings from people who were just sure that either my dog would be dead from salmonella within the week, or from people who declared that my dog's work would suffer and she would become a scrounger because she was being fed "people food." Yet again, they were wrong. Bristol started eating a grain free raw diet and within a month, she was a different dog entirely. Twelve years, and thousands of pounds of raw meaty bones later, Bristol is 14.5 years young and still waits eagerly for her allotment of animal parts every morning. Even when she leaves us for the great dog-park which lies beyond, I will still feed this way. I will do it because it works for my dogs!
If I had listened to the "can't's" and the "shouldn't's" nothing would have changed. I would not now, be enjoying the rewards which come with taking chances. The assistance dog community can, at times, be a very harsh and judgmental place. If you are different-- if you take a different road-- you are probably going to get your fair share of unpleasantness over it. You will get more questions and sideways looks than if you had gone to a program, gotten a lab, come home, used approved methods, and fed approved food. For me, what is more important than anything is the success and happiness of the team-- my dog, and me! Sometimes this happiness lies in doing what works for most people. At other times, however, much can be gain by taking the chance and doing things a different way.
<"eighth Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is:
Marching To Your Own drum.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference."
-- Robert Frost
Throughout my entire life, one of the words I've heard most often is "can't." Mostly it's strangers who say the word, but sadly, at other times it's family, friends, coworkers, trainers, or others with whom I have consistent interaction. When someone tells me that I "can't do" this or that, I'm more than likely to see it as a challenge, and not as the warning or the limitation the person has intended it to be. This also holds true for the word "shouldn't" or similar words. I don't want to be told what to do! Even if someone says "can't" and I try and fail, and they are proven right, at least I had the satisfaction of trying and knowing for myself(the hard way) that I really can't do something. And besides, if I'd listened to all of the can't's and shouldn't's I'd never be where I am today.
I am a Deafblind dog trainer with balance problems. My dogs are owner trained, gotten from an animal shelter or rescue, raw fed, minimally vaccinated, and clicker trained. I have been accused by some, of just "needing to be different." But as strange as it may seem, I'm not really like that at all.
Sometimes, life forces us to be different, to take a chance, to try something unheard of because it is the only thing left to try. This is how I came to clicker training. After my in-home hearing/fetchNcarry® dog, Mill'E-Max was attacked by three dogs in under a year, clicker training was the only thing that helped us make any progress. People said that it wouldn't work, they made fun of my use of treats, and said that it would lead to a dog who's only interest was her belly. Thankfully, they were wrong. Clicker training was such a wonderful discovery that I use it with all of my dogs. It works for us, and so I'll keep doing it.
Sometimes, the lesser-known path is chosen because it is the thing that literally makes the difference between illness and health. My now-retired guide Bristol was very ill in her younger days. She was plagued with chronic ear and skin infections, stomach and bowel problems, and inability to maintain a healthy weight. I switched to a natural-rearing approach-- including a raw diet in hopes of prolonging her life and in the hope that it would be able to let her continue working for me. I did it back in the day when most everyone was still feeding feed-grade kibble. I got many questions, and a lot of dyer warnings from people who were just sure that either my dog would be dead from salmonella within the week, or from people who declared that my dog's work would suffer and she would become a scrounger because she was being fed "people food." Yet again, they were wrong. Bristol started eating a grain free raw diet and within a month, she was a different dog entirely. Twelve years, and thousands of pounds of raw meaty bones later, Bristol is 14.5 years young and still waits eagerly for her allotment of animal parts every morning. Even when she leaves us for the great dog-park which lies beyond, I will still feed this way. I will do it because it works for my dogs!
If I had listened to the "can't's" and the "shouldn't's" nothing would have changed. I would not now, be enjoying the rewards which come with taking chances. The assistance dog community can, at times, be a very harsh and judgmental place. If you are different-- if you take a different road-- you are probably going to get your fair share of unpleasantness over it. You will get more questions and sideways looks than if you had gone to a program, gotten a lab, come home, used approved methods, and fed approved food. For me, what is more important than anything is the success and happiness of the team-- my dog, and me! Sometimes this happiness lies in doing what works for most people. At other times, however, much can be gain by taking the chance and doing things a different way.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Swamp Zebra Crossing
Welcome to summer in the swamp. My refrigerator has died. This is not ideal and has caused not a little bit of drama here in the land of Pawpower. Next up-- refrigerator shopping!
On a more amusing note, I have some Baylee tails for everyone. She is now 14 months old and has started her "for serious" grown up guide dog training. She thinks this is fabulous. She loves working, being out in public, and getting praise and treats for being a good guide swamp zebra. There is just one little thing that may drive us all to drink. The dog cannot understand that J-walking is not ok, no really, for serious, not ever.
When we go to the mini mart, we need to cross the street directly in front of us and then the one to the right. We get to the curb, and I can read her mind as she says to herself:
"The shortest distance between point A and point B is a straight line! I know this!"
And I try to demonstrate that although this may be the case, it is not the best and safest option. But she doesn't care, because she must have gotten an A+ in that secret canine geometry class she took on the internetz. Nothing will do but a straight line from our corner to the one forward and to the right.
But I am not a clicker trainer for nothing, right? And my mad clicker training skillz are telling me to treat the weakest link in the behavior chain. The weakest link is that darned corner which she finds superfluous. This is going to require a lot of back-chaining of this crossing, and a pretty high reinforcement schedule for the corner she wants to miss. But I think I'll do it at night, when it's cooler.
Someone please tell me why it is my destiny to train guide dogs in the middle of a New Orleans summer? This will be the 3rd one in 4 years. In a thousand years, when Laveau retires, she can do it around the end of August. That way I'll have until June to get this stuff done, when the weather is a bit more civilized.
Stay cool, Y'all!
On a more amusing note, I have some Baylee tails for everyone. She is now 14 months old and has started her "for serious" grown up guide dog training. She thinks this is fabulous. She loves working, being out in public, and getting praise and treats for being a good guide swamp zebra. There is just one little thing that may drive us all to drink. The dog cannot understand that J-walking is not ok, no really, for serious, not ever.
When we go to the mini mart, we need to cross the street directly in front of us and then the one to the right. We get to the curb, and I can read her mind as she says to herself:
"The shortest distance between point A and point B is a straight line! I know this!"
And I try to demonstrate that although this may be the case, it is not the best and safest option. But she doesn't care, because she must have gotten an A+ in that secret canine geometry class she took on the internetz. Nothing will do but a straight line from our corner to the one forward and to the right.
But I am not a clicker trainer for nothing, right? And my mad clicker training skillz are telling me to treat the weakest link in the behavior chain. The weakest link is that darned corner which she finds superfluous. This is going to require a lot of back-chaining of this crossing, and a pretty high reinforcement schedule for the corner she wants to miss. But I think I'll do it at night, when it's cooler.
Someone please tell me why it is my destiny to train guide dogs in the middle of a New Orleans summer? This will be the 3rd one in 4 years. In a thousand years, when Laveau retires, she can do it around the end of August. That way I'll have until June to get this stuff done, when the weather is a bit more civilized.
Stay cool, Y'all!
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Obstacles of Grace
This post is for the sixth
<"Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is obstacles.
When an assistance dog organization trains their specially-bred dogs to become working partners, it's only the top half, or less who make it. So many obstacles stand in the way of a young puppy. Will it have the correct temperament? Will it be physically sound? Will it like the work? So many things to overcome.
If a specially-bred dog has such a small chance of making it, then how much less so, a mutt who found herself in one of America's dumping grounds for pets, left to be someone else's problem. Her black color became yet another obstacle; because nobody wants the black ones; they will always have a higher chance of being euthanized.
Her name was Jewel. She had a filthy coat and eyes that seemed to know too much. Her first family didn't want her, none of the people who walked by her cage at the shelter day in and day out wanted her, and her time was running out. I was volunteering at this shelter at the time, and was also looking for another dog to train, maybe as a guide dog, just for fun, to see if I could train the tasks, but mostly just to have as a friend for Bristol, my old working dog. but we didn't want Jewel, either. I knew what I wanted and that wasn't her.
But sometimes we don't get what we want, and through a string of small yet life-changing events, I found myself up to my neck in suds and black fur. Jewel became my dog on a long-ago Saturday morning, as I washed her encrusted hot spots, trimmed her matted fur, and otherwise tried to fix what had been broken. At some point during that endless-seeming afternoon, Jewel the unwanted and castoff farm dog had taken her first tentative steps to becoming Gracy the guide dog. But just like windshields have bugs-- roads have obstacles.
She came to live with me, and it soon became apparent that her socialization was minimal, at very best. We did it all-- steps, cars, out door strip malls. She loved being out in the world. I loved having her, and what was even better, she was helping my current working dog to change for the better.
Her only problem was me. I had been taught just how to "train a dog." There was the one way I knew, and I used my method of choice in a manner I thought was pretty even-handed, and "normal." If leash corrections made her shut down, well that wasn't my fault, was it? I couldn't let the dog "be the alpha," could I? She has to learn to be tough. When I finally saw the metaphorical light, the popping sound which signified the removal of my cranium from my rectum was so loud, it may have contributed to my deafness.
Eventually I became an operant trainer and we both got a lot happier. I wasn't perfect, but I was a lot more willing to try different things, and a lot less quick with physical correction. She blossomed. We finally had a working relationship.
Things sailed along pretty smoothly for a while, but I should have known it was the calm before the storm. The storm even had a name-- it was Katrina. She rolled into town on August 29th of 2005, and left failing levees, and almost total destruction behind her. Gracy learned to work in a city other than New Orleans. We came back home in March of 2006, to a city laden with obstacles. All of the hours of training, all of the tears and hard work, and second guessing the both of us paid off.
Walking down the street was like visiting a third-world country. Homes lay neglected, with debris scattered everywhere. There were FEMA trailers on the sidewalk, rusted cars on lawns, refrigerators with their seven-months old contents lay in the pedestrian walkway. Nails in the road, and potholes which you could literally use for swimming holes. She guided me around them all. She knew what to do and she did it.
I remember on one of my first trips back to the city , when all I could do was walk-- zombie like-- through the blocks and blocks of destruction. Walk passed numbers on doors which told of the body count inside. walk passed people coming home for the first time, who stood weeping in yards. I just walked, knowing that if I were to stop-- even for a moment-- that I would be completely unable to move forward, or to even move at all ever again. There was nothing else to do-- so she lead me through this new landscape of death and broken lives. Without a flinch, or a twitch of an eyelash she guided me around the obstacles until I was safely home again.
Now she is retired. She is a gray-muzzled lady of leisure. She spends her days keeping the gardens free of mice, and the yard clear of intruders. I have another dog in the harness. I would like to think that I'm a better trainer, though. I'd like to think that somewhere along this unexpected journey which I've taken-- guided by grace-- that I've changed and that my current and future dogs will have benefited from the obstacles Gracy and I have overcome together.
<"Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is obstacles.
When an assistance dog organization trains their specially-bred dogs to become working partners, it's only the top half, or less who make it. So many obstacles stand in the way of a young puppy. Will it have the correct temperament? Will it be physically sound? Will it like the work? So many things to overcome.
If a specially-bred dog has such a small chance of making it, then how much less so, a mutt who found herself in one of America's dumping grounds for pets, left to be someone else's problem. Her black color became yet another obstacle; because nobody wants the black ones; they will always have a higher chance of being euthanized.
Her name was Jewel. She had a filthy coat and eyes that seemed to know too much. Her first family didn't want her, none of the people who walked by her cage at the shelter day in and day out wanted her, and her time was running out. I was volunteering at this shelter at the time, and was also looking for another dog to train, maybe as a guide dog, just for fun, to see if I could train the tasks, but mostly just to have as a friend for Bristol, my old working dog. but we didn't want Jewel, either. I knew what I wanted and that wasn't her.
But sometimes we don't get what we want, and through a string of small yet life-changing events, I found myself up to my neck in suds and black fur. Jewel became my dog on a long-ago Saturday morning, as I washed her encrusted hot spots, trimmed her matted fur, and otherwise tried to fix what had been broken. At some point during that endless-seeming afternoon, Jewel the unwanted and castoff farm dog had taken her first tentative steps to becoming Gracy the guide dog. But just like windshields have bugs-- roads have obstacles.
She came to live with me, and it soon became apparent that her socialization was minimal, at very best. We did it all-- steps, cars, out door strip malls. She loved being out in the world. I loved having her, and what was even better, she was helping my current working dog to change for the better.
Her only problem was me. I had been taught just how to "train a dog." There was the one way I knew, and I used my method of choice in a manner I thought was pretty even-handed, and "normal." If leash corrections made her shut down, well that wasn't my fault, was it? I couldn't let the dog "be the alpha," could I? She has to learn to be tough. When I finally saw the metaphorical light, the popping sound which signified the removal of my cranium from my rectum was so loud, it may have contributed to my deafness.
Eventually I became an operant trainer and we both got a lot happier. I wasn't perfect, but I was a lot more willing to try different things, and a lot less quick with physical correction. She blossomed. We finally had a working relationship.
Things sailed along pretty smoothly for a while, but I should have known it was the calm before the storm. The storm even had a name-- it was Katrina. She rolled into town on August 29th of 2005, and left failing levees, and almost total destruction behind her. Gracy learned to work in a city other than New Orleans. We came back home in March of 2006, to a city laden with obstacles. All of the hours of training, all of the tears and hard work, and second guessing the both of us paid off.
Walking down the street was like visiting a third-world country. Homes lay neglected, with debris scattered everywhere. There were FEMA trailers on the sidewalk, rusted cars on lawns, refrigerators with their seven-months old contents lay in the pedestrian walkway. Nails in the road, and potholes which you could literally use for swimming holes. She guided me around them all. She knew what to do and she did it.
I remember on one of my first trips back to the city , when all I could do was walk-- zombie like-- through the blocks and blocks of destruction. Walk passed numbers on doors which told of the body count inside. walk passed people coming home for the first time, who stood weeping in yards. I just walked, knowing that if I were to stop-- even for a moment-- that I would be completely unable to move forward, or to even move at all ever again. There was nothing else to do-- so she lead me through this new landscape of death and broken lives. Without a flinch, or a twitch of an eyelash she guided me around the obstacles until I was safely home again.
Now she is retired. She is a gray-muzzled lady of leisure. She spends her days keeping the gardens free of mice, and the yard clear of intruders. I have another dog in the harness. I would like to think that I'm a better trainer, though. I'd like to think that somewhere along this unexpected journey which I've taken-- guided by grace-- that I've changed and that my current and future dogs will have benefited from the obstacles Gracy and I have overcome together.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Puppy Prattle
We've been ultra busy here in Pawpower land. If we're not playing with the puppy, training with the puppy, or taking the puppy out to do her business, we are usually dead asleep! Having Baylee in my life really shows me how much maturing Laveau has done. I adopted her as this young, eager, slightly nervous dog. I sometimes forget that she's really a grown-up now.
On Saturday we took the pack to the dog park. Well OK, Mill'E-Max stayed behind because there wasn't enough room! Bristol and Laveau were off-leash and Baylee was on a long line. We didn't actually see any dogs while we were there, surprisingly. Laveau thought it was funny to run with Baylee and keep on for about five feet passed where Baylee's leash ended. Then Laveau would stop, turn around and taunt Baylee. It was like doggie keep-away. Bristol is still ignoring Baylee so she spent her dog park time checking her Pee-Mail and sending numerous replies.
Mister Pawpower has made Baylee's first "in training" cape. I'm getting it embroidered this week. Only a dog nerd like me would find this super exciting! And OMG her cape is so cute! and tiny! And I imagine that one day, when Baylee is all grown up that we will look at this tiny cape and marvel that Baylee was ever that small.
My dogs are all very vocal when they play. They sound like they are tearing each other's head off, but really it's just fun. Today, Baylee has discovered that she can also make noise-- a lot of noise! I can hear it!
I have a raging ear infection from wearing my hearing aid too much. These infections also produce an increase in vertigo symptoms. This results in a lack of balance, and the inability to distinguish direction. Today, while on the way to meet my ASL teacher, I crossed a small road a block from the coffee shop. It felt to me, like Mill'E-Max had crossed the road on a right diagonal. When we got to the curb, I told her to go left. What I didn't know was that Mill'E-Max had actually crossed straight, and by asking her to turn left, I was asking her to take me directly into on-coming traffic. Because I can't hear, I didn't register this fact. Thankfully, she body-blocked me and pushed me back. Thereby telling me that I needed to think again, and take a closer look at my environment. I finally figured out where I was and she carried on. It's experiences like this which make me so grateful for my dogs and their willingness to have such a crazy partner who is deaf, blind, and with a really crappy vestibular system. I can say for a certainty that I would not be anywhere as independent without a dog.
So Mill'E-Max gets extra praise, treats and love today for being an awesome dog!
On Saturday we took the pack to the dog park. Well OK, Mill'E-Max stayed behind because there wasn't enough room! Bristol and Laveau were off-leash and Baylee was on a long line. We didn't actually see any dogs while we were there, surprisingly. Laveau thought it was funny to run with Baylee and keep on for about five feet passed where Baylee's leash ended. Then Laveau would stop, turn around and taunt Baylee. It was like doggie keep-away. Bristol is still ignoring Baylee so she spent her dog park time checking her Pee-Mail and sending numerous replies.
Mister Pawpower has made Baylee's first "in training" cape. I'm getting it embroidered this week. Only a dog nerd like me would find this super exciting! And OMG her cape is so cute! and tiny! And I imagine that one day, when Baylee is all grown up that we will look at this tiny cape and marvel that Baylee was ever that small.
My dogs are all very vocal when they play. They sound like they are tearing each other's head off, but really it's just fun. Today, Baylee has discovered that she can also make noise-- a lot of noise! I can hear it!
I have a raging ear infection from wearing my hearing aid too much. These infections also produce an increase in vertigo symptoms. This results in a lack of balance, and the inability to distinguish direction. Today, while on the way to meet my ASL teacher, I crossed a small road a block from the coffee shop. It felt to me, like Mill'E-Max had crossed the road on a right diagonal. When we got to the curb, I told her to go left. What I didn't know was that Mill'E-Max had actually crossed straight, and by asking her to turn left, I was asking her to take me directly into on-coming traffic. Because I can't hear, I didn't register this fact. Thankfully, she body-blocked me and pushed me back. Thereby telling me that I needed to think again, and take a closer look at my environment. I finally figured out where I was and she carried on. It's experiences like this which make me so grateful for my dogs and their willingness to have such a crazy partner who is deaf, blind, and with a really crappy vestibular system. I can say for a certainty that I would not be anywhere as independent without a dog.
So Mill'E-Max gets extra praise, treats and love today for being an awesome dog!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Why do you do it?
Mister Pawpower's search for an assistance dog candidate has caused some interesting reactions and these reactions have made me think-- about myself, my reasons for owner training and how it is viewed by the larger assistance dog community. Until around five or ten years ago, it was not common at all for blind people to train their own guide dogs. It was done, just not by very many at all. Owner training was an option used more by persons with other disabilities. People who are deaf or hard of hearing, or people with mobility or medical issues were more likely to train their own assistance dogs. This is because programs which serve these populations tended to have a longer wait list, to have more stringent requirements for acceptance, and to require the payment of large sums of money for their services. A blind person could get a guide dog from a program in under a year after the first application, and more times than not, the dog was given with no fee owed. Guide dog programs didn't have rules about having other pet animals in the home, or other rules about keeping one's retired assistance animal.
However, due to several factors, more and more blind people have made the decision to owner train. I don't think most people understand that this decision isn't made lightly. Owner training is costly, both in financial and time resources. It takes a very specific skill set. The dog has to go through the process of training and the handler has to put in a great deal of focused, intensive labor. The dog could then wash out and the handler is back at the beginning.
Most people put serious thought and consideration into their decision, but many people seem to be asking my husband why? Why would he want to owner train? Why doesn't he go to a program?
I can't speak about Mister Pawpower's feeling and own personal choices. I am not him, and his tale is not mine to tell-- his reasons not mine to explore. However, I can give some general reasons why someone would want to owner train.
Many people owner train because they cannot attend a program. Perhaps their disabilities make attending a program, or working with a trainer from the program in their own home unmanageable. The person may have Multiple Chemical Sensitivities (MCS), they may have such a unique combination of disabilities and considerations that no program feels equipped to train an assistance animal to meet their needs. They may have work, family, or medical commitments which prevent their going away to a program for the specified period of time (usually a month).
Many programs have very specific rules. These programs put these rules in place because they feel it is in the best interest of the populations they serve, and the dogs they train. However, many people don't want to follow these rules. It is highly preferable to find another alternative than to submit yourself to a program whose rules you cannot or will not follow. Many programs reserve the right to repossess the dog if these rules are violated, and the horror and grief over losing your partner due to such a dispute would be much more painful than the impatience of a longer wait for an assistance dog either owner trained or from another program. An example of one of these rules is that some programs state that you may not have other pet, or retired assistance dogs in the home with your working dog. They have their reasons for feeling like this is an important rule, but many people have beloved pets and have managed to go on to have a happy working assistance dog partner and a pet or retired dog living together.
Many programs will not transfer ownership of the dog upon completion of the program. For me, personally, this is a huge sticking point. My choice of programs to attend-- already limited by being Deafblind and using American Sign Language as a primary means of communication, is even more limited because I will not submit myself to a program which will not grant me full and total ownership of my dog upon completion of the training period. People can argue with me until they are blue in the face about this issue, but my mind is very thoroughly made up. We all have "that one thing" which we will never compromise on, and for me it is ownership.
Some people do not want to attend a program because they have firm beliefs in certain training, and rearing methods. Out of necessity, programs have a pretty cookie-cutter approach to dog training and care. They do try to meet every dog's needs, but most dogs will have their needs met-- both behaviorally and physically-- by the training/rearing method of choice. Again I can speak from personal experience. As a clicker trainer and a big proponent of Natural Rearing; it is extremely important to me that my dogs be fed a raw diet as soon as possible, and that they be minimally vaccinated, and treated using a blend of standard medicine and herbs. It is also extremely important that my dog be operant. This means that the dog has realized that she can operate on her environment and that the clicker or other marker has been established as a tool for communication. Many programs use it as a behavior marker, but clicker training is so much more than the clicker. It is a way of thinking-- for the person, and their dog.
Finally there are people who honestly enjoy the process of owner training. I'll grant you, we are few and far between. There are many good reasons for this-- see the part about intensive work above. But we do exist, and for us, it is a true passion and enjoyable experience to train dogs to this level.
The words "harder" and "easier" are very subjective. When people ask Mister Pawpower, "wouldn't it just be easier to go to a program?" They are speaking from their subjective view of what is "easy." For many, it is "easier" to train a dog themselves then to risk exacerbating medical issues, leaving home for a month, obeying rules which chafe, or which go against your grain. For the majority of the folks out there, this is not true. But there are always exceptions.
However, due to several factors, more and more blind people have made the decision to owner train. I don't think most people understand that this decision isn't made lightly. Owner training is costly, both in financial and time resources. It takes a very specific skill set. The dog has to go through the process of training and the handler has to put in a great deal of focused, intensive labor. The dog could then wash out and the handler is back at the beginning.
Most people put serious thought and consideration into their decision, but many people seem to be asking my husband why? Why would he want to owner train? Why doesn't he go to a program?
I can't speak about Mister Pawpower's feeling and own personal choices. I am not him, and his tale is not mine to tell-- his reasons not mine to explore. However, I can give some general reasons why someone would want to owner train.
Many people owner train because they cannot attend a program. Perhaps their disabilities make attending a program, or working with a trainer from the program in their own home unmanageable. The person may have Multiple Chemical Sensitivities (MCS), they may have such a unique combination of disabilities and considerations that no program feels equipped to train an assistance animal to meet their needs. They may have work, family, or medical commitments which prevent their going away to a program for the specified period of time (usually a month).
Many programs have very specific rules. These programs put these rules in place because they feel it is in the best interest of the populations they serve, and the dogs they train. However, many people don't want to follow these rules. It is highly preferable to find another alternative than to submit yourself to a program whose rules you cannot or will not follow. Many programs reserve the right to repossess the dog if these rules are violated, and the horror and grief over losing your partner due to such a dispute would be much more painful than the impatience of a longer wait for an assistance dog either owner trained or from another program. An example of one of these rules is that some programs state that you may not have other pet, or retired assistance dogs in the home with your working dog. They have their reasons for feeling like this is an important rule, but many people have beloved pets and have managed to go on to have a happy working assistance dog partner and a pet or retired dog living together.
Many programs will not transfer ownership of the dog upon completion of the program. For me, personally, this is a huge sticking point. My choice of programs to attend-- already limited by being Deafblind and using American Sign Language as a primary means of communication, is even more limited because I will not submit myself to a program which will not grant me full and total ownership of my dog upon completion of the training period. People can argue with me until they are blue in the face about this issue, but my mind is very thoroughly made up. We all have "that one thing" which we will never compromise on, and for me it is ownership.
Some people do not want to attend a program because they have firm beliefs in certain training, and rearing methods. Out of necessity, programs have a pretty cookie-cutter approach to dog training and care. They do try to meet every dog's needs, but most dogs will have their needs met-- both behaviorally and physically-- by the training/rearing method of choice. Again I can speak from personal experience. As a clicker trainer and a big proponent of Natural Rearing; it is extremely important to me that my dogs be fed a raw diet as soon as possible, and that they be minimally vaccinated, and treated using a blend of standard medicine and herbs. It is also extremely important that my dog be operant. This means that the dog has realized that she can operate on her environment and that the clicker or other marker has been established as a tool for communication. Many programs use it as a behavior marker, but clicker training is so much more than the clicker. It is a way of thinking-- for the person, and their dog.
Finally there are people who honestly enjoy the process of owner training. I'll grant you, we are few and far between. There are many good reasons for this-- see the part about intensive work above. But we do exist, and for us, it is a true passion and enjoyable experience to train dogs to this level.
The words "harder" and "easier" are very subjective. When people ask Mister Pawpower, "wouldn't it just be easier to go to a program?" They are speaking from their subjective view of what is "easy." For many, it is "easier" to train a dog themselves then to risk exacerbating medical issues, leaving home for a month, obeying rules which chafe, or which go against your grain. For the majority of the folks out there, this is not true. But there are always exceptions.
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