Chasing, snapping at Dad

Aggression toward a moving man
Evie was a 5 year old cattle dog when we met. When I met her she was 7 but she’s still a cattle dog. Vicky and Richard adopted her from a foster home when she was 2. Now they needed help. Evie was barking, chasing, and sometimes snapping at Richard when he moved. He’s a good guy. He deserved better.

There was more unhappy history. Vicky worked from home and reported Evie being relatively calm – until 3 PM. Like clockwork this dog sat near the door, anxiously anticipating Richard’s arrival. The intense barking and jumping that greeted him daily had been rehearsed many hundreds of times. After about 15 minutes the histrionics subsided. Evie then ran to her bed in Vicky’s home office. Richard could finally approach and safely pet this somewhat less wigged-out dog.

Even when the big guy was away, Evie wasn’t truly normal, moving about the house quickly and furtively as though chupacabra lurked around each doorway. When Richard was home, Evie seldom rested and rarely slept, reacting to the slightest noise or movement. If her people watched TV on the couch Evie always sat between them. On off-leash hikes she circled them, often looking back at Richard (spawn of the devil). He wasn’t happy; Evie’s wellbeing suffered even more.

Their lives weren’t a complete wasteland. Like many of us, of a certain age, Richard had a rather wonky back. When he laid on the living room floor to stretch and relax Evie was transformed, suddenly smitten with her dog daddy. If he’d been a ferret, always horizontal, there might never have been a problem. Evie lived on the horns of a dilemma: Was the man in her life fun or scary? Maybe he was both.

Why was Evie so frightened of Richard while trusting of Vicky?

a)       She’d been abused by a man in her previous home.

b)       Despite his mild-mannered demeanor, Richard actually was the devil.

c)       His typical male mannerisms were a fear trigger.

d)       Evie was repulsed by Richard’s cologne.

Freaked-out when home alone too

Despite her struggles, Evie was a fun dog, throwing her toys around and then treating them like puppies. Vicky and Richard were strongly bonded to her, ready to do whatever was necessary to help her feel better.

Pet parents manage with whatever information they can find. Evie’s folks worried about her damaging their house when they were away so they confined her to a crate. After I advised them to set up a surveillance camera they realized that their dog was not as sanguine when they were away as they had thought. Videos showed her barking frantically as she lurched around her wire cage. Returning home they found her shrieking with wild abandon. Sometimes the crate wasn’t where they’d left it. The peanut butter-stuffed Kong, intended as a distraction, sat undisturbed. Evie’s overwhelming joy when bolting for freedom took 15 minutes to subside. Richard and Vicky were saddened by all of this, but they had to see it to understand it.

There was nothing healthy about Evie’s spikes of fear, her attempts to chase Richard into the next county, or her freak-outs when crated. Any long term improvement would require us to address the underlying causes of her distress.

So, why was Evie so frightened of Richard while trusting of Vicky? It wasn’t his aftershave. He didn’t wear any and dogs don’t care about that stuff anyway. I came to know this couple pretty well. Richard is not the devil; he’s not even a politician. And he wasn’t the only man Evie tried to run out of town either; she threatened hate crimes against pretty much anybody male.

If you’re an anxious, easily scared dog you gravitate toward safety. Research has demonstrated that most women are smaller than men, move more gracefully, and speak in more evenly modulated tones. Men, with our booming voices, tend to thump around like lumberjacks. Even those of us who are not barbarians look that way to dogs like Evie. The correct answer to the quiz, by the way, is c) Richard’s typical male mannerisms were a fear trigger for Evie.

Avoid fear – set up a diversion

Every fearful pet is different. Genetics is often the big culprit but life’s traumas can be another major factor. Dogs who’ve been abused, predictably avoid or react badly to their perpetrator but not toward other humans of that sex.  It turned out that before meeting Richard, Evie had only lived with women.

From day one in her new home, this dog was a nervous wreck, especially when the big guy lumbered around, rattling the windows with his normal booming voice. Getting in touch with his feminine side was one solution but poor Evie was on-edge, ready to lose her mind, most of the time anyway. The diagnosis was generalized anxiety disorder.

Rehearsing a behavior strengthens the supporting neural circuits in the brain. That’s why practice makes perfect. The upshot for Evie was that she could only improve if she stopped reacting to Richard’s movements, not to mention the myriad of everyday sights and sounds that caused her to jump, bark, and freak-out. As best possible, she needed a safe distance from every one of her triggers.

I explained that no one, other than Vicky, should ever approach, reach for, or lean over Evie. At the same time I encouraged Richard to enjoy this special girl’s company all he wanted, by sitting still with his side turned and not looking directly at her. When he held a treat at his hip, not reaching or even talking, a cute cattle dog started reliably showing up for a snack, a kind word, and a head rub. As this behavior was repeated, it got stronger.

Of course, Richard couldn’t spend every waking moment sitting still or lying on the floor (Evie’s favorite); he needed to live his life. But standing up, and appearing suddenly bigger, would be a nonstarter. So I advised him to locate a Treat & Train across the room. Before getting to his feet he would give the “Place” command, sending this pupster running happily to lie down in front of this nifty device.

Canine leadership for a dog – What a concept!

Had Evie been delivered into this life, genetically equipped with a healthy, well-adjusted brain she might have stayed in her first home. Sadly, those folks found her reactive outbursts annoying and, believing that they’d “tried everything”, succumbed to frustration and surrendered her to a shelter. While struggling to cope with that calamity she got lucky. Vicky and Richard adopted her. Change of any kind was not her friend, however. Evie wigged out even worse. She desperately needed structure and predictability.

Richard and Vicky taught their girl that by high-tailing it to her Treat & Train, she would earn an immediate reinforcer (beep tone), followed by a treat. At random intervals Richard could then release an occasional snack, keeping his dog’s attention on her very own slot machine. Now he could jump to his feet and enjoy his wife and home without the nipping and barking.

Greater distance from Richard made him less scary for Evie. Watching and waiting for the next dog treat pay-out was a lot funner than freaking-out anyway. Her people sent her there anytime she started to react or, even better, when they thought she might react. She also learned that the doorbell or a knock on the door would herald the same series of excellent events.

Evie carried other baggage too, crammed full of angst. If we could help her become just somewhat calmer she might accept normal human movements and household noises, not to mention being left home alone. The circuitry in that computer between her ears needed to function better. I prescribed a safe, chewable, once daily antianxiety tablet called Reconcile (fluoxetine). It made the difference.

Richard and Vicky were good students of modern learning theory. I taught them that any response to Evie’s

anxiety would actually validate her unhealthy behavior. As they got ready to go out on the town they behaved as though they had no dog. They dropped a loaded food toy on the floor and left without a word. They never closed the dog crate again. OMG! They became canine leaders. Imagine Evie’s delight being managed like a real dog.