Category Archives: Supplies

What To Do If Your Dog Digs

Perched precariously on the edge of the pot, Pan was in his element. Paws pumping, dirt flying, tail waving wildly, he quickly and professionally excavated the area, messily transferring potting soil from inside the heavy clay pot to a wide swath immediately surrounding it.

Pan and Trout dug under our shed to access a nest of baby rabbits. Dogs often dig for a purpose.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” I exclaimed as I turned around, dumbstruck at the amount of chaos a determined terrier cross could cause in only moments when my back was turned. In answer, Pan snorted up at me happily, eyes dancing in delight, before returning to his energetic digging. Gathering my wits, I asked him to “leave it,” which he did with a grin and a play-bow before zooming off in ecstatic circles around the yard. What a delightful time he was having!

Less delightful for me, of course. Only minutes before, I had carefully planted some [dog-safe] bulbs in that very same pot, placing them the proper distance apart before covering them with the correct depth of soil. I looked at them lying on our cement patio. I looked at my dog, bounding around in pure joy. It was time to do some training.

Digging is a common behavior for all dogs, and especially for certain breeds such as terriers and dogs with more primitive roots. There are many reasons why your dog might dig, and one of the first things that you need to do is figure out what’s motivating your pup to let their paws fly.

Most commonly, dogs dig for fun. It just plain feels good! There’s something especially satisfying about the feel of loose dirt or sand between their paws.

Pan just cached a special chewy in this hole. Photo by Matt Helgemoe.

However, dogs will also dig for more practical reasons. Many dogs will dig holes to cache special treasures such as treats or toys, covering their prize carefully after depositing it in the hole by scooping dirt or sand back over it with their nose. You may also see this behavior indoors, when your dog pushes blankets over his food bowl or perhaps even makes the motions of scooping with his nose in the air above a special prize. Dogs also dig due to social facilitation. This is why your dog might start digging next to you in the garden every spring – your digging prompts his interest, and he joins in on the activity. Dogs will dig with one another, too. Some dogs will dig burrows, especially if they are hot. Digging into the cool earth provides them with a more comfortable place to rest away the heat of the day. Some pregnant dogs are determined to dig a “den.” Dogs will also dig to achieve a goal, such as escaping from under their fence to go on a grand adventure, or digging under your shed to get to that compelling nest of baby bunnies.

If your dog is digging for a specific reason, addressing that reason completely resolves the digging. For example, our older dog Trout dug out of our yard multiple times shortly after we moved. Every time we thought we had Trout-proofed the yard, she showed us a new weakness in our fortifications! Luckily, Trout is always supervised, so we were able to quickly retrieve her before she wandered onto the nearby busy road.

Trout’s digging issues were fairly easily resolved through management. We prevented her from digging by burying cement blocks in all of her favorite digging locations. We also used ex-pens to shore up any weak areas where she could squeeze under the fence until we were able to build a better barrier to keep her in the yard. We didn’t just take away her digging options, though. Digging out of the yard told us that Trout was bored, and the world outside her backyard looked much more green than the ground she’d already explored inside her highly-reinforced “AlcaTroutz.” So, we needed to make things more interesting.

Increasing the excitement of the backyard wasn’t difficult, but it did require some minor maintenance. Sprinkling interesting scents in random areas of the yard kept things interesting for Trout. A small handful of used hamster bedding, a few feathers from a friend’s chicken, or the dust from the bottom of a bag of beef liver dog treats were all big hits. Trout also thought that the trail of juice dribbled from a can of tuna was fascinating, and she loved it when we threw a small handful of treats out in the grass for her to find. Of equal enrichment value was our brush pile. After we removed two arborvitae from alongside our house, the brush became a frequent playground for her. She climbed, burrowed, and sniffed amongst the branches for hours. We made sure to position this brush pile well away from the fence so as not to provide a convenient staircase into the world outside her yard, and Trout soon stopped attempting to dig out at all as her backyard became the paradise that she’d always assumed the rest of the neighborhood to be.

Providing enrichment such as novel scents, sights, sounds, obstacles, and toys in the yard is one great way to reduce your dog’s digging, especially if he or she is digging out of boredom. However, I recommend against doing away with digging altogether for the vast majority of dogs. Digging is great enrichment, a great stress-reliever, and wonderful exercise! Instead of forbidding your dog from digging, I recommend that you instead channel his or her digging skills into appropriate outlets.

Trout and Pan dig apart their straw bale.

How you do this depends on your available space and how much your dog likes to dig. Those with less space can use a single straw bale sprinkled liberally with treats to create a fabulous digging surface (let your dog tear the bale apart, don’t bother spreading it out yourself). A wide, shallow rubbermaid tub can also be filled with shredded paper, strips of fleece, or even playground sand, and provided for your dog once a week (or more) in an easily-cleaned room of your home (bonus: it’s quite satisfying to vacuum up all of the spilled sand afterwards). Or, you can go to the gold standard in doggy delight: create your very own digging pit.

A digging pit is a clearly defined area where you not only allow, but encourage your dog to dig. You can mark this out with wooden planks, cement blocks, flags, or other landscaping materials. I decided to go with a large box made of treated cedar planks, which was situated on a gravel bed in my backyard. In my last several homes, our digging pits have been made up of a children’s plastic sandbox (with a lid to keep out brave but suicidal neighborhood cats, whom my terriers may not have greeted kindly on their turf), a bed of straw under a deck, and a sand/clay area where nothing but a couple of determined hostas grew, which I marked out with fist-sized rocks in a large square. Look at your available space, and determine what you can provide.

Add interesting items, like toys or treats, to your dog’s digging area to keep them coming back.

Now comes the fun part! Most dogs are delighted to discover that there’s an area where they can get their legal digs out. Make the area extra enticing by burying prizes for your dog to find. Hard biscuits, dental chews, bones, toys, and bully sticks are all good candidates. Start by making it really easy for your dog to “win” in their digging pit lottery by sprinkling some small treats on top of the dirt or sand in that area. As your dog starts to show some interest in the magic treat spot, let him or her watch you as you theatrically bury a larger biscuit under a very shallow layer of substrate. Then, encourage your dog to get it. Help him dig, if he seems hesitant! Remember, social facilitation is huge for dogs, so when he sees you digging and hears you encouraging him to join in, he’s much more likely to get into the game. Really make a big deal over him when he digs up the treat, regardless of whether he used his nose or paws to extract it.

As your dog gets better at the digging game, you can make the challenges you provide for him harder. Bury prizes more deeply, or do so when he’s not looking so that he has to use his nose to find them. Planting “surprises” in the box once or twice a week will keep him heading back to the same spot over and over to see what fun he can [quite literally] dig up each day. It’s okay – even good! – if your dog doesn’t find anything most of the time when he digs. As long as he keeps getting rewarded for digging in your designated area on occasion, he’s going to keep playing the digging lottery in that special spot that sometimes pays off.

Providing your dog with a designated digging pit isn’t enough to stop him from digging in other areas, however. As Pan proved with his potted planter excavation, dogs need some additional training to learn where they are and are not allowed to do their yardwork.

This is easily accomplished with supervision, redirection, and most of all, consistency. After his joyful hole creation, I watched Pan carefully. Anytime he started to dig in off-limits areas of our yard, I interrupted him with a cheerful “leave it!” or “oops!” and an invitation to run to the sandbox. Anytime he went to the sandbox on his own, I praised him profusely. Sometimes, I ran over and planted a prize for him to dig up. Sometimes, I ran over and dug with him, using my hands or a small trowel to dig alongside him (a reward even better than food for Pan, who relished the chance to do something fun together). Sometimes, I’ll be honest… I lay in my hammock and simply praised from afar, too comfortable to get up. Hey, dog training doesn’t always have to be a lot of hard work!

Pan’s nose is still sandy from caching his deer antler.

Our first “aha!” moment actually happened late at night. I was finishing up some bookkeeping indoors when Pan asked to go outside. He’d been given a new deer antler chewy earlier that day, and when I opened the back door he ran to retrieve this prize from where he’d buried it under his dog bed in his crate. I waited patiently while he found a spot to pee in the yard, antler in mouth. He then ran over to his sandbox, where he spent almost fifteen minutes under the light of the moon carefully excavating a hole, depositing his treasure, and covering it with layers and layers of sand. He came back in with his head covered in sand, a big smile on his face. Mission accomplished! He could sleep easily, prize cached in a safe location. The next morning, my husband reported that Pan dug his antler up first thing before once again conscientiously caching it under the sand.

Over the course of a month, Pan’s digging attempts in other areas of the yard became both less common and less intense. However, his digging in the sandbox continued on, strong as the day we’d built it. He cached treasures, dug up treasures, and oftentimes dug just for the delight of the sand beneath his speedy paws. I replanted the flower bulbs, which grew quickly in spite of their early and abrupt departure from their home. Pan left my pots of plants alone. He left the soft earth where a tree stump had been removed alone. He joined Trout in digging under our shed to devour a nest of bunnies, and we added gravel, landscape boulders, and an ex-pen around the back of the shed to keep our suicidal long-eared guests safe. He gave up on the shed and went back to his sandbox. I stopped having to issue “leave it” reminders.

Too often in our dogs’ lives, we forget to let them be dogs. We forget that they’re intelligent, autonomous beings with their own likes and dislikes.

Layla chomps on a crab apple that she’d cached in her straw digging area.

Activities like barking, chewing, chasing, and digging aren’t intrinsically bad. The problem comes not from the activities themselves, but from when and where your dog engages in them. Rather than punishing normal and natural canine behavior out of your best friend, consider instead whether you can direct it into a more appropriate channel. Consider how very good that activity feels to your dog. Consider how that activity benefits your dog: in the feeling of fulfillment from carrying out a centuries-old instinct, in the discharge of pent-up energy or anxiety, or perhaps in the cascade of dopamine that enjoyable activities releases. Why take that away from your best friend?

What opportunities do you provide for your dog to dig? Please share your stories in the comments section below!

Sniff Before You Drip: Essential Oils and Your Dog

Have you ever been stuck in an elevator when someone wearing way too much perfume walks on (or worse yet, stuck sitting next to that person on a plane or bus)? Not only does it bother you initially, but it can actually be physically uncomfortable. You quickly develop a headache, and may feel nauseated. Often you will go “nose blind” after twenty minutes of smelling the perfume or cologne, no longer registering its presence at all (but also not able to smell anything else in your immediate environment). Even after you’ve long since stopped being aware of the scent, the physical effects on your body linger on.

We all know how unpleasant strong odors can be. However, I think we frequently forget to look at (or rather, sniff) the world from our dog’s perspective.


Consider this: the canine olfactory system is so specialized, so amazingly designed, that we literally cannot match it. Even the most brilliant scientists in the world are unable to build a robot that can track or differentiate odors as well as your pet dog. Dogs are unmatchable.

Let’s look at the dog’s olfactory system in relation to our own favorite sense, vision. Dogs so far outperform our own limited noses that we must seem to them to be, for all intents and purposes, anosmic. If scent were vision, what you could easily see 1/3 of a mile away, your dog would be able to see three thousand miles away, just as clearly. ¬†Dogs have somewhere between 200,000,000-300,000,000 scent receptors in their noses. They’re rock star sniffers.

Why does this matter? I want you to think about your perfume-drenched elevator companion for a moment. What if you had to live with that person 24/7? What if you could never escape that tiny elevator? This is the reality for many dogs. They’re stuck in physically overpowering and even painful scent environments for their entire lives.

That diffuser plugged into the outlet in your living room might smell heavenly to you. But, do you think it would still smell as good if it were 10,000 or even 100,000 times more pungent? Does your dog enjoy it?

Worse yet, do you use essential oils on your pet or in your home?

Essential oils may have some health or mood-altering benefits. I have no problem with dog owners using these as an ancillary treatment alongside training or behavior modification. In fact, conditioning a relaxing and “safe” scent can sometimes make a huge difference for anxious dogs! However, I often see oils used way too irresponsibly with animals. Good practitioners will tell you which oils are safe or unsafe to use with your pet. However, your responsibility doesn’t end there. You also need to make sure that you’re using the oil in the correct concentration.

Considering how keen our dogs’ noses are, we need to be highly cautious about using oils at full strength. I instead prefer to use a small bit of the essential oil diluted in a less pungent carrier oil. A single drop of essential oil can be mixed into a small glass jar of olive or coconut oil, for example. You can then further dilute the oil by repeating the process, placing a single drop of the diluted mixture into a second jar of carrier oil. While this may not smell as strongly to you, it will still be plenty powerful for your dog’s superior sniffer.

If you wish to use essential oils with your dog, I also recommend that you ask your dog which oils are best. You can do this by simply placing a single drop of your diluted mixture on a small washcloth or towel. Place the scented cloth near where your dog likes to hang out, and observe your dog’s reaction for twenty-four hours. Does your dog investigate, lie on, or seem drawn to the scented cloth? Great! That’s a green light to use the diluted oil for your dog. Does your dog ignore the cloth? Go slowly, and be cautious about its use. Does your dog avoid the cloth, or perhaps even the whole room that the cloth is in? Stop right there. Your dog finds the oil aversive, and you should not use it.

Whether you plan to use an oil diffuser or rub the essential oil directly on your pet, I encourage you to always ask your dog whether they find the scent acceptable before you proceed. The same goes for other scents in your home. Scented laundry soap, fabric softener, room sprays, candles, perfumes, cologne, and diffusers can be highly aversive to many dogs. In fact, I believe that excessive use of these products often contributes to many of the common behavioral issues we see in our pets by adding an unnecessary stressor to their lives, and perhaps even making them feel less well.

Please, be sensitive to your dog’s sniffer next time you wish to use scent in your household. You may be surprised how very many opinions they have about the topic!

The Problems with Remote Collars

There are many different training methods out there, and each has its pros and cons. Today, I want to talk specifically about the use of remote collars (also known as shock collars or e-collars).

Photo by Tate Viehmann

Photo by Tate Viehmann

Today’s remote collars are a far cry from early versions. Many brands now have a very wide range of shocks (called “stimulations” by collar users), which can range from virtually unnoticeable to intensely painful. “Good” remote collar trainers use the collars primarily as negative reinforcement. What that means is that the dog learns to comply immediately in order to turn off a painful, uncomfortable, or annoying sensation. While this is a far cry from the early days of remote collar use, when dogs were hurt at high levels for noncompliance (a training technique called positive punishment, for you geeks out there), it’s still not a pleasant way to learn.

So, how would someone use a remote collar? Let’s use a recall (come when called) as an example. The trainer would start by asking the dog which level of stimulation was the right one. This is done by putting the collar on the dog and, starting at one, increasing the level until the dog displays a change in behavior. This level is then the one used for initial training, although the trainer may adjust the level up or down depending on a variety of factors. The dog should not be displaying significant signs of pain or distress at this level (no yelping, head shaking, or fight/flight reactions).

Once the “appropriate” level of shock is determined, the trainer will teach the dog to turn off the shock. This can be done in a variety of ways, but usually involves repeated stimulations (tapping the remote over and over rapidly) until the dog moves towards the handler, at which point the shocks stop. The dog learns that his or her behavior can make the sensation stop.

While remote collar training can certainly be effective (if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t still be around), it is not a technique that I recommend. So, what are the common problems with remote collar use?

My biggest concern with the use of these collars is that, used according to modern training directions, there is no way for the dog to avoid shock entirely. The first “tap” of the collar is given simultaneously with the command. While the dog can quickly turn off the sensation by complying, there is no time or way for the dog to entirely avoid all shocks. The dog is only able to avoid future shocks, not the initial one. This necessarily sets up a stressful learning experience.

But what if the collar isn’t used simultaneously with the command? What if, instead, the trainer only begins tapping the remote after the dog has had a few seconds to respond? While this training method would avoid the above issue, it creates other problems. Don’t forget, Pavlov is always on your shoulder! If the recall command is repeatedly followed by an uncomfortable or unpleasant stimulus, you will quickly condition your dog to feel dread when you call. This process is called classical conditioning, and it’s powerful stuff. We call cues that are associated with icky things like this “poisoned” cues, and research shows that changing the association with a poisoned cue is a very long-term, difficult process. Once your dog has associated a word with something unpleasant, they will always have that memory in the back of their mind when they heard the poisoned cue in the future, even if future repetitions of the cue have only been associated with nice things. By the way, this same process happens if you use a warning tone or vibration before (and eventually even in place of) the stimulation.

Speaking of emotions, my second concern has to do with the quadrant of learning theory that remote collar users employ: negative reinforcement. In negative reinforcement, the dog learns to do something in order to stop an unpleasant thing. The primary emotion associated with negative reinforcement is that of relief. People feel this too! Consider doing your taxes, shoveling the driveway after a big snowstorm, or loading the dishwasher. The biggest reward for completing these tasks is the sensation of relief when you’re done. The tasks are not enjoyable in and of themselves, but you feel better when they’re completed because you’ve removed the pressure of the need to act that’s been looming over you.

Compare this to the emotion that positive reinforcement causes: joy! Which would you rather have your dog feel when you call him? When trained with positive reinforcement, the recall cue becomes a tiny reward in and of itself. Dogs feel a little jolt of happiness when you call, because they’ve associated the recall over and over with very pleasant things happening. Dogs who are trained with negative reinforcement, such as remote collars, feel a strong compulsion to move towards you when you call them, followed by a feeling of relief once they are in motion towards you. That’s not the same, and it’s not what I want our relationship to be based on. That’s not to say that dogs trained with remote collars can’t have lovely relationships with their owners – they can! In fact, training of any sort will begin to build a relationship, regardless of methods used. But my opinion is that positive reinforcement works the very fastest and best to build strong, lasting relationships based on mutual respect and understanding.

Finally, remote collars can cause fear or aggression issues. This comes back to that classical conditioning we talked about before. If you repeatedly use the collar to call your dog away from people or other dogs, for example, your dog may come to associate the uncomfortable sensation with what he sees when the collar is activated (dogs or people) rather than with his behavior. If he’s looking at another dog every time he hears the warning beep or gets “tapped,” he’s going to come to associate other dogs with this, and his behavior towards other dogs is likely to change. In fact, this is such a common situation that the AVSAB has released a position statement warning about these risks, and advising that e-collars are never used in dogs who have any history of fearful or aggressive behavior.

But, aren’t remote collars necessary in some situations? What about if your dog lives near a busy road or has a history of chasing livestock? Aren’t e-collars more reliable than positive reinforcement alone? This is one of the most common excuses I hear for using remote collars. Luckily, this question has been studied, and the results were quite conclusive. Positive reinforcement training works every bit as well as remote collar methods in teaching a reliable recall, even for dogs who have a history of chasing livestock. Furthermore, dogs trained with positive reinforcement methods showed fewer signs of stress, such as yawning and tense muscles, and had lower salivary cortisol levels three months later upon visiting the training center. If you feel that you need to use a remote collar to achieve a reliable recall, you likely need a better trainer and better management tools, not a remote collar.

Ultimately, I believe that remote collars are a step up from previous compulsive methods of training dogs, such as using a long leash attached to a slip or pinch collar. But that doesn’t mean that they’re the best method out there, or even a good method, and before using one I would strongly advise you to do your research. Reward-based methods work, even with strong, hard-headed, and highly predatory dogs. In fact, they work really well for all animals, with fewer potential side effects. They can work for you, too.

Dog-Dog Aggression Between Housemates Part Three: Management

Over the last couple weeks, I’ve discussed the recent issues between my two dogs, Layla and Trout. After the fight, both dogs had injuries that needed time to heal. They also needed some time to heal emotionally, though, as both were frightened and on edge.

Management during these weeks was critical. By keeping the two dogs separate from one another, we avoided further confrontations and were able to set them up for success. As the days passed, both dogs were able to relax and began to show interest in interacting with one another again.

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The first week was spent in total separation. We divided our house up into separate areas using baby gates with blankets over them to prevent the dogs from making visual contact (Trout did a lot of hard staring at first), exercise pens, and closed doors to keep the dogs apart. Our kitchen became one zone, the upstairs another, the living room and den two more. Because our house has such an open floor plan, it took some creativity to divide it in this manner. While it was an inconvenience to navigate the various gates and ex-pen panels, I really believe that the complete separation was the best thing we did for both dogs.

Remember, it takes 72 hours on average for stress hormones to return to baseline after a big event like the fight. The physical stress on both dogs’ bodies from their injuries, as well as the stress of wearing e-collars (the “cone of shame,” not remote collars), also contributed to keep their overall stress levels high. Trying to reintroduce the two dogs right away would have been like throwing a match onto a puddle of rocket fuel. They were already keyed up and on edge, and we needed to give them the time and resources to decompress.

Knowing this, we immediately plugged in our DAP diffuser on the main floor of the house. We made sure both dogs got lots of individual attention and that we were switching them out of various areas in the house regularly. We provided the best pain control possible to make sure their injuries weren’t preventing them from resting comfortably. Once Layla’s leg was able to hold her weight, we began walking the dogs on short jaunts multiple times a day, letting them stop and sniff frequently to unwind. Our goal was an atmosphere of support and calm.

We used additional management tools, such as tethers and crates, loosely as needed. For the most part, we were able to confine the dogs in rooms rather than in crates. However, there were definitely times when tethering the dogs on opposite sides of the room, such as when I was working in my office, was helpful in keeping them safe while still allowing them to both be near me, where they wanted to spend time. I managed this by attaching short 4′ leashes to each dog’s collar, then placing the handle of a leash on the doorknob opposite the side of the door we were on and closing the door on the leash. I also attached leashes to sturdy furniture, such as my large desk.

We also revisited muzzle training. Layla was already 100% comfortable wearing a basket muzzle prior to this incident, but Trout has always been a bit more skeptical about any sort of equipment, even balking at her regular collar and harness. At least once an hour when I was home, I worked with Trout and the muzzle, until eventually she was comfortable and happy taking treats out of the basket and having it fastened around her neck. Muzzling the dogs prior to interactions served two purposes. It obviously kept everyone safe, but it also allowed the humans involved to relax since we knew that nothing too horrible could happen. Since dogs pick up on emotional cues easily, setting everyone up for success by keeping the interactions relaxed and positive was especially important.

With management in place and both dogs comfortable with the routine, we were ready to begin the training process. Next week I’ll discuss what we did to help the dogs coexist peacefully once again. In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you! How do you manage your dogs to set them up for success? Please post your tips and tricks in the comments section below.

[Mostly] Wordless Wednesday

Photo by Jeremy Vandel

Photo by Jeremy Vandel

“Obesity in dogs is one of the biggest problems. But do you think the dog food companies want to talk about that?”

– Dr. Ray Coppinger

Diary of a Fearful Puppy: Week One

Last week, I covered fearful puppy Chowder’s first three days in our home. After three days, Chowder was reliably taking food from our hands, enjoying regular play sessions with our dog Trout, and beginning to play with us.

Chowder’s overall ability to cope with life in our home took a great turn for the better after the first 72 hours. He continued to be a champ at using his potty pads and settling in his crate, and we were able to use his crate to move him from one area to another. He would run into his crate as we approached, and we could then shut the crate door and move the crate wherever we needed him.

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Because of this, we were able to expand his world from our kitchen and bedroom to include my office downstairs. Our house has a relatively open floor plan, so we used an ex-pen to gate off the downstairs living room (which has white carpet) and a baby gate to close off access to the steps. Chowder could then run around my office and the adjoining room, which were both set up with water, toys, and potty pads.

Once Chowder could hang out with me while I worked, I began doing hourly training sessions with him. The clicker was an important tool in shaping his brave behaviors. Each hour, I would spend sixty seconds clicking and treating for brave behaviors. Whenever he took a step towards me, I clicked and tossed a treat away. This provided him with double rewards: not only did he get a treat, but he also got to move further away from me, which made him feel more comfortable. I wanted to be sure not to put too much social pressure on him, and this game allowed him to approach to a distance that felt comfortable without the conflict of moving into my space to eat.

Over the next week, Chowder learned the hand target game and quickly came to enjoy following my hand all over to earn clicks and treats. On his fourth evening with us, we discovered that he really liked popcorn. He began offering sits, which I clicked and rewarded with a small piece of popcorn. Within a couple minutes, he was offering to sit on a verbal cue with confidence.

One interesting behavior pattern that we noticed with Chowder was his differing level of confidence throughout the day. He was consistently timid and fearful in the mornings, and grew in confidence as the day progressed. By evening, he was much more likely to approach us and allow us to touch him, but would then regress overnight. We took advantage of his bravery in the evening by letting him snuggle in bed with us each night before he went into his crate to sleep. We set his crate up on the bed with the door open, and let him choose to come to us. Popcorn and cuddles became nightly themes, and by the fifth night in our house he actually fell asleep on our bed in between us.

We began having Chowder wear a body harness, which we put on each morning with lots of patience and food. Handling was still difficult and putting the harness on frightened Chowder, but he recovered quickly and we felt that the benefits of the harness outweighed the potential damage done to our relationship in putting it on. Had Chowder been too scared to eat while having the harness put on, we wouldn’t have done this. We attached a dragline to this harness and began allowing Chowder to spend short periods of time loose in the house when we knew he was empty (having just used a potty pad). Layla was confined when Chowder was loose, since the two dogs were still not ready to be loose together. Chowder loved these periods of freedom to run around with Trout and cautiously explore the house.

During this first week, I began bringing Chowder to the classes I was teaching. I set him up in an ex-pen in a corner with access to his crate and potty pads. A sign on the ex-pen told students, “Hi! My name is Chowder and I’m shy. Please don’t try to pet me, but you can feed me treats. Thanks for helping!” My students were wonderful at tossing treats into Chowder’s area when they were nearby, and he would cautiously come out of his crate after they moved away to eat. He watched the other dogs in class avidly, wagging his tail whenever he saw a new dog.

By the end of his first week with us, Chowder had made some remarkable progress from the near-feral puppy we initially brought home. He’d fallen asleep in bed, was accepting gentle petting in the evenings, and knew a couple trained behaviors which he could use to interact with people in positive ways. He was still quite timid and would run away if approached or if we reached for him, but he was on his way!

Next week, I’ll talk about Chowder’s second and third weeks in our home. In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever brought a fearful animal home? How did you go about socializing him or her?

Diary of a Fearful Puppy: the First Three Days

My current foster puppy, Chowder, was found living in a culvert with his mom and three brothers as an eight-week-old puppy. This is his story.

My first view of Chowder and his siblings told me a lot about their socialization history. Huddled against one another at the back of their crate, they attempted to block out the rest of the world during their intake at the rescue’s headquarters. When lifted out of the crate for vetting and photos, the puppies froze still with fear. As is typical of young puppies, who tend to freeze rather than resorting to fight or flight when they’re incredibly overwhelmed, all four pups were compliant for vetting but uninterested in treats or in interaction with the kind rescuers who were caring for them. When back in the crate, two of the puppies started to take offered treats. Chowder and his brother Flapjack continued to refuse, huddled behind their braver siblings.

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The first 72 hours with a fearful dog or puppy can make or break that animal’s relationship with his human caretakers, and I kept that fact in mind as I brought little Chowder home. I wanted to make his first impressions of our home and of his new foster family as positive as possible. It takes an average of three days for cortisol levels (a common stress hormone) to return to baseline after a stressful event, and I knew that Chowder’s transport from Oklahoma to Minnesota, as well as his subsequent separation from his mom and brothers, hadn’t been easy on him.

We set Chowder up behind a baby gate in our kitchen, with his crate, potty pads, water, and toys. I spent the first evening with him sitting on the floor, reading a book and ignoring him. He huddled in the safety of his crate, watching everything with wide eyes. The only time he became more comfortable was when he spied either of our two dogs, Trout and Layla. Upon seeing another dog, his tail came out from between his legs and wagged slightly, and he would come out of his crate briefly to sniff noses through the gate. He felt safer in the presence of dogs than people.

Chowder ran into his crate every time he saw a person, but soon became comfortable enough to venture out of his crate when we weren’t around. He quickly caught on to using his potty pads. He also loved the toys we left out for him, and would bring them back into his crate. He amassed quite a hoard of toys in the first couple days, preferring soft stuffed animals that he could cuddle with.

All of his meals came from our hands. He became comfortable with my boyfriend, Matt, before he became comfortable with me. He would tentatively approach us as we sat with our backs to him, nibbling on food and treats that we held flat on our palms. If we reached towards him, he still darted away into the safety of his crate, but he was fast becoming comfortable with the idea that people provided food and other good stuff to eat.

Knowing that other dogs helped Chowder to feel more comfortable, we began allowing him to have playdates with our younger dog, Trout. Chowder loved Trout, who tolerated his rough puppy play and biting with mostly good grace. The two dogs enjoyed wrestling. Chowder also seemed more comfortable with Matt and me when Trout was around, and was more likely to allow us to gently scratch his itchy skin in the middle of a play session. We continued to keep Chowder separate from our older dog, Layla, who required longer introductions as she could be aggressive towards unfamiliar dogs. Layla and Chowder were both given treats for polite, social behavior towards one another on opposite sides of the baby gate, and Layla quickly began to offer sniffing noses with the puppy to earn a food reward.

On the second evening at our house, we plugged in a DAP diffuser for Chowder. The results on both his and Layla’s behavior were noticeable. While not as remarkable as drug therapy, Chowder’s recover from stressful events became much faster under the influence of DAP. Instead of taking an hour for him to recover from hearing a loud noise or from a sudden movement near him, it took mere minutes for him to choose to venture forth from the safety of his crate.

Making sure that Chowder felt safe and that he was given opportunities to choose rather than being forced into interactions were the most important themes of his first three days (and indeed, these themes have continued throughout our foster time with him). By allowing him choice, Chowder learned that he could be brave and that retreat when he became overwhelmed was always an option. He started to play with us – little tug and pounce games at first from within the safety of his crate. By day three, he was willing to come out of his crate briefly to grab a rabbit-fur tug toy, which he would pull back into his crate and tug on as we held onto the other end. He also enjoyed a grabbing and shredding game that he and Matt invented with pieces of toilet paper. His confidence increased, and he started to move more like a puppy and less like a wild animal. We still had a long way to go, but by the end of the first three days Chowder was showing some promising progress.

Next week, we’ll discuss what we did with Chowder in his first week at our home. This special little guy is still looking for a forever home of his own and is available for adoption! For now, I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever brought home a fearful animal? What did you do during that animal’s first few days to help him or her feel safe?