Dog fights – human struggles

Unseen aggression between family dogs

Behavioral research shows that 75% of dogs are anxious in veterinary clinics. We’re ethically bound not to make it any harder for them.  I quietly opened the door into reception and spied my clients. Jerry Cline was seated next to his wife Charlene. Izzy, parked between them, was a 48# spotted mix of some kind but rather a pretty girl dog. She sat evenly on both hips, head up but a little back. Her ears were also back but not pinned to the sides of her head. Her tail was tucked around her rear end, its tip not visible. Her mouth was closed, her pupils mildly dilated. I pegged her anxiety as moderate. Izzy’s two housemates, Willa and Rosie, were much smaller dogs. They looked as bored as a couple of school kids missing their smart phones. I invited this crowd into my exam room.

A beefy fellow in his mid-sixties, Jerry sat with his shoulders and back slumped. His head was bowed, his fingertips steepled, as he sized me up. He did his best to project skepticism while making no attempt to hide his affection for his pets.

I shook hands with Jerry and Charlene, introducing myself as Jeff. An informal start helps most people relax. Not Jerry. He was so tightly wound I worried he might slough his stomach lining. I considered offering the poor guy a nip of Maalox.

The brain is considered the most complex organ in the body. There’s a whole lot of circuitry and chemical transmitters connecting those 86 billion neurons. To unravel the mysteries, we veterinary behaviorists carefully observe our patients while listening to their people. Jerry was cagey. Charlene was alert and attentive. Izzy wanted to be anywhere but the doctor’s office.

Izzy had a history of minimal interaction with Willa and Rosie when the human leaders were home, but she left evidence of aggression toward her pint-sized companions when they were away. On three occasions, scrapes had been found on Rosie’s ear flaps. The room had been tossed, clear evidence of a canine kerfuffle.

Punishment teaching good behavior?

Izzy, Willa, and Rosie could have been allowed to fight it out until the last dog was standing. Wouldn’t the thumping the smaller dogs endured teach them to mind their place in the pecking order? Really? Some people actually believe that. The more common mistake is to punish the perpetrator.

Izzy had been severely reprimanded for her aggression but not for a long time; it had been over a year since she’d been busted for bullying. Back in the day, though, Jerry had gotten really upset when seeing her push the small fry around. He’d yelled and contorted himself until he risked a hernia. Each time, Izzy appeared duly chastened. It seemed to work; nobody had witnessed her odious behavior in quite a while. They’d moved on.

Our dogs share a lot with us “higher” mammals but there are differences. Canine hierarchies, whether free-living or domestic, are about survival. Most melees involve resource competition over food, toys, proximity to a human leader, a favored resting area, or access through a doorway. None of that happened at the Cline home.

Rosie and Willa weren’t crazy about big Izzy. They never invited her to join them in a rousing game of pinochle. If she was nearby they watched her body signaling carefully, never trusting her. Whenever her agitation escalated they quickly took cover. Remember Izzy’s postures that belied her nervousness in the veterinary clinic? As I gathered more history from Charlene and Jerry it became clear that this dog was highly anxious at home – a whole lot of the time. The resulting chaos in the indoor confined spaces of the average house or apartment can be dangerous.

People who follow instructions are priceless. My practice manager asked the Clines to shoot video of their pets, home alone, to bring to the consultation. They set up an inexpensive home surveillance camera and, big as life, right after the dogs heard the family car rumbling away, Izzy’s ears rotated forward as she assumed a stiff stance. She glared at Rosie.

Rosie and Willa ran under a table with Izzy in hot pursuit. Furniture was upended as the little tykes snapped at their tormentor. It was upsetting to watch. Jerry commented that Izzy had learned nothing from his past tirades. He was wrong.

Dog fight desperation – Could it improve?

If one event quickly follows another, every time, our dogs connect the dots. Jerry’s past rage-infused tirades against Izzy, when he caught her menacing the smaller dogs, taught her to avoid them in his presence. And, since he’d never descended on her like an atomic weapon when he wasn’t there, she could forget her fear of him when it was just her, Rosie, and Willa. No surprise. Research has shown that punishment only works if it’s applied immediately following an undesirable behavior – every single time.

Aversive consequences have already failed on many of the pets who are brought to me for help. Their problems persist, or reemerge in worse ways, because the motivation to do the bad thing was never recognized and managed. Just like disorders of any body system we need to treat the underlying causes.

Little Rosie and Willa were enduring lives of apprehension and fear. They certainly deserved better. But it was the disorder in Izzy’s brain’s circuits and neurochemistry that really needed help.

The political struggle among the 3 Cline dogs was only part of the story. Charlene initially came off as poised and rational but we weren’t far into our discussion when a look of desperation came over her. When I asked what concerned her most she stared down at her hands and said, “I don’t think I can take this any longer.” She badly wanted peace in her house but she was losing hope.  Should they rehome Izzy? How would they find the right people for her? Who would want a dog with her history? This good lady loved all of her pets. And she was struggling.

I told my clients that we had a decent chance of helping Izzy but that it would be challenging.  Then, an unmistakable look of guilt came over Jerry. I said that no one should feel bad about their failed attempts to fix dangerous problems. People do their best with what they know but, like all of us, they make mistakes. A tear rolled down this big man’s cheek. I waited.

Teach a dog like a dog

I could only help Charlene and Jerry, with the fighting among their dogs, if I had their buy-in. They were both feeling pretty low. So, I shared the game plan.

I explained that if big Izzy’s threats toward Rosy and Willa were consistently ignored, the circuits in her brain, that carried and stored her unhealthy behaviors, would weaken from disuse. “Oh No!” they exclaimed in unison. “We can’t do nothing, can we?” “Don’t be ridiculous” I responded. “Of course you can.” There could be no other way.

Dogs regard any response from a leader, however subtle, as a validation of their behavior and of their emotional state of the moment. I told the Clines to leave a 6 foot leash (drag line) attached to their big spotted girl’s harness. At the earliest hint of tension directed toward the little tykes, their job was to immediately believe that there were no dogs. Then step on the drag line (no diving for it like an infielder), grab it, and march to another room. Maintaining composure, they would close the door and walk away.

Time-out is well established in behavioral science. Dogs really hate it because they lose essential communication with their superiors (us). Izzy’s benevolent dictators, Charlene and Jerry, would reinforce with a kind word only after it was earned by a calmer posture. I admonished them to catch their fuzzy canine student doing something right every chance they got. Every day. Hundreds of times every day.

Jerry was hanging on every word. I paused, expecting a question. Instead he shared his anger problem. In a quiet tone, the big man explained that he was raised in a physically and emotionally violent home. He was severely punished for his lackluster school grades. Any mistake resulted in, well, I won’t repeat what happened to this child whose trust was stolen. But I will share that research shows that the majority of children who suffer physical abuse carry significant anger as adults. Pets can take the brunt. Jerry didn’t cause Izzy’s aggression toward Rosie and Willa but his verbal tirades hadn’t fostered improvement either. Will Rogers said, “When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.”

Fear & anxiety can improve – but happily ever after?

Jerry was already getting help with his own internal struggles when I met him, Charlene, and their dogs. Everybody, including Izzy, Willa, and Rosie, knew there’d be no quick fix for the collective angst. Even moderate improvement would be cause for dancing in the streets. Ignoring and banishing Izzy to time-out, followed by reinforcing calmer behavior, would be their new management routine. No more scolding.

Wait a minute. Wouldn’t that only work when the dogs were supervised? Izzy’s fluctuating anxiety could spike dangerously anytime. Her cowering compact canine cohabitants were all too familiar with her short fuse. They were already looking over their little shoulders.

Izzy wore more stripes on her sleeve than Rosie and Willa but she wasn’t a stable leader. I prescribed a safe and effective antianxiety medication called fluoxetine, for the head honcho, that can also reduce impulsivity and aggression. (The canine-approved brand Reconcile is often better absorbed than the cheaper generic.) After a few weeks this big girl was calmer but still prone to intense agitation if Willa or Rosie came too close. Adding guanfacine to diminish her release of noradrenalin made life less explosive. All creatures could now exhale.

I laid down the law: Keep Izzy separated from the smaller dogs whenever they weren’t under a watchful human eye, most importantly when Charlene and Jerry were away. And nothing is permanent. Everybody’s brain, and their behavior, are likely to change over time, for better or for worse.

A lot of us pet parents carry old wounds. The Clines had considered having children early in their long marriage but Jerry absolutely abhorred bullying. He was terrified that his family’s violent history would repeat. He didn’t want to pop off anymore. As Izzy got better, so did everybody else. But they would always be in recovery.

The Cline family moved to a smaller house a couple of years later. It was a difficult change for anxious Izzy, triggering a bounce in Willa’s and Rosie’s vigilance. I advised my clients on fine-tuning the management of their dogs, along with a medication adjustment for Izzy. Everybody made it through without a single brawl.