Reach for the Skye

Christina Bond Mar 2011

She was not the pup I would have chosen.  She sat in my lap as limp as a ragdoll, ears down on the sides of her head, tail tucked up under her tiny pink belly.  My heart sank.  It felt as though a lead weight had been dropped on my chest.  How could this tiny weak soul possibly survive - mentally and emotionally - the 24 hours of travel via noisy cars, buses and planes, from her birth home in England to her new home in California?

This was the fifth pup over the past 20 years that my husband and I had adopted from these lines.  Each of the others had been wiggly, happy, chunky bunnies at this age.  When I picked them up, they wriggled to get closer to my face, to interact with me and discover yet another novelty in their world.  We considered ourselves so very lucky to have a breeder who not only bred beautiful dogs – in body and mind - but who also never failed to choose the most suitable pup for us.  Pups that we had loved and raised and shared lifetimes with.

Sadly, this pretty little pup was nothing like the other four.  I placed her on the rug at my feet, and gently moved a rubber donut toy in front of her.  She touched it gingerly with her mouth.  My hopes rose – she wants to play!  But they instantly sank again when her littermate, a much more energetic and confident pup, bounced over and pounced on the toy.  She immediately released it, turned away, and moved off to a quiet corner in the lounge.

The breeder had left the room.  I glanced at my husband, Rich.  This was his dog, not mine, so it was his choice.  “Are you sure you want this one?” I asked.

I could see he was noticing the same differences I had.  His look said he felt obligated.  The breeder had chosen her for us, had organized the vet visit and the paperwork for the flight home, and had placed all but one of the other pups …the little boy pup who was so joyfully bouncing here and there at our feet - a pup I would have gladly swapped for!  But Rich wanted a girl.  And the little girl pup my husband would call Skye was vet-checked, vaccinated and ready for travel.

A highlight of our trip was the opportunity for me to stay with Kay for a few days, with our new pup.  I had hoped to begin a bit of clicker training, or some of the puppy foundation work Kay is so skilled in.  I quietly tucked those thoughts away and prepared myself for the inevitable:  Raising a shy pup.

The first day in Kay’s kitchen, I watched with growing apprehension as Skye huddled inside her airline crate.  The door was open, but she wasn’t yet willing to venture out.  With slow, cautious steps, she moved partially out of the crate.  Then pulled back inside.  She repeated this, eventually stepping out of the crate, then turning around and taking refuge again.  This behavior continued throughout the day, as she painstakingly added a few inches at a time to her exploration forays.

I mentioned my concern about this to Kay.  “That’s normal” she said.  “That’s how puppies explore their world.  They practice returning to the safety of their den.”

Why is it Kay always has such gems to share?  Insights that one never would have thought of, but which seem so very obvious when pointed out?

I worried a little less.

The second day, Skye was comfortable at a certain distance from her crate.  But she had not yet travelled the full length of the kitchen.  I felt as though I was counting her progress in 4 x 4 inch tiles.  She had, at least, attempted to play with a few toys.  A chirping cat-toy mouse, a gift from Kay, was her favorite.

To see if we could pique her interest, we placed an empty plastic milk jug in her pen, a foot or so from where she lay beside our chairs.  She didn’t’ notice at first.  But when she did, she jumped away, and quickly retreated to the safety of her crate.

My heart sank again as I recalculated my plans.  No expectations for this pup.  Competition dog sports were not likely.  I hoped that, at least, she could have a happy life - not one of anxiety and fear.

On the third day, the breeder checked in with us.  We mentioned our concerns about the shyness, and she offered to exchange Skye for the little boy pup.  But my husband’s choice was to keep Skye.  So I took a deep breath and stepped into this new reality. The beginning of yet another unexpected journey.  One might have plans, but life is full of surprises.  No looking back.

I used to think I knew dogs well.  But with each new dog, I feel more humble.  I have come to believe that our dogs are sent to teach us life’s lessons.  And lucky we are to have such patient teachers.  I had no idea what lessons Skye would teach me.  But who was I to question?

Over the next few days in England, before our trip home to California, we followed Kay’s advice.  We allowed Skye to explore her world in her own time, on her own terms.  We could already see improvement, which was heartening.

Meantime, the bonding process was well underway.  I had bonded to her.  And she had bonded to my shoes.  It was hard to peel myself away from this little waif.  Timid as she was, there were glimpses of a unique personality there.  Perhaps, in time, she would blossom.  But no matter what the future may bring, I was now dedicated to her.

The journey home was the most stressful Rich and I had ever experienced.  We were hyper-aware of every loud noise (and let me tell you, there are a LOT of strange, loud noises in airports!).  To make matters worse, Skye had developed diarrhoea and she refused to drink.  For the entire ten hour flight, we were white knuckled, tense and constantly checking and cleaning our little pup’s crate, as quietly and quickly as possible to avoid attracting the attention of the airline staff and other passengers.  We felt terribly worried and helpless, knowing there was very little that could be done during the flight.  To our great relief, she recovered quickly as soon as we were on solid ground.

We were pleasantly surprised when, the moment Skye met Magic, she adored him and he adored her.  He is a three year old male, from a previous litter in the same lines as Skye.  Something about him must have been familiar to her, because she showed no fear of him.  Within minutes they were gently greeting, and within hours they were gently playing.  My fondness for Magic grew two sizes that day, as I watched how carefully he interacted with her.  Magic was a natural in social facilitation.  Just being around him in the new environment was a boost to Skye’s confidence.

Rich and I continued to follow Kay’s advice, allowing Skye to discover her world at her own pace.  Within a week, she had explored and become familiar with the entire flat area of the backyard – a 60 foot square area.  Acres to her.  Not long after, she was exploring the hill at the far end of the yard.

The house and yard were her safe areas. Other than necessary veterinary visits, we would not take her outside of this safe area until she was showing absolute confidence here.  This concept was entirely foreign to me, having been taught the mantra “socialize, socialize, socialize!”.  But I could see the logic in it.

• Lack of choice removes control.  Loss of control promotes fear. If fear is practiced often, it begins to become the default behavior, the default emotion.
• Choice of what she interacts with gives Skye control over her world, and over her own body, to keep herself safe.  Control of her world builds confidence.  If confidence and enjoyment are practiced, they become the default behavior, the default emotion.

My goal in this new journey was to provide an environment where Skye could practice confidence every minute of every hour of every day.

Novelty was a secondary part of the plan.  The more novel objects Skye could choose to interact with, and find enjoyment in, the more the concept of a novel object would be a reinforcer for discovery. We gradually filled Skye’s space with new things to explore and enjoy.

Her favorite was the baby pool.  I splashed the water gently to attract her attention, then let her choose to explore it in her own time.  Now I can’t keep her out of it!

We also tried casual nosework, hiding treats in boxes and other objects.  She was frightened of boxes at first, but soon learned they were an opportunity for fun.  They often held smelly treats inside, and she could work to get them open.  Once opened and treats consumed, a game could be made tearing the boxes up into tiny bits.

Skye also learned that traversing novel objects was worthwhile.  A plank of wood might yield a tidbit of cheese if one walked along it, sniffing.  Following Magic through the agility tunnel was also great fun.

At this stage, tug and ball play were introduced.  These would be useful later, to set the tone of new places.  This new field is where we play ball.  This new building is where we play tug. Wonderful distractions when a hint of worry arises, to send the boogieman away.

Skye became so confident in her home environment that she grew quite bold when playing with Magic, launching her tiny body at his head and climbing on top of him as he laid down to play at her level.  We were happy when she began chewing everyday items around her, as any normal puppy will do.  And she became quite cheeky at times, launching herself into our laps.  Anyone would have thought we were crazy to be thrilled with these behaviors.  But we gladly accepted the confidence that drove them.

Having said that, her energy needed a more appropriate outlet.  So we began to carry her around the neighborhood, with Magic walking ahead.  Eventually, carrying turned to walking on her own.  But the goal remained the same:  Allowing her choice, gauging her to make sure she felt no fear only curiosity.

When this was going well, we took her down to the local school playing field for a ball fetch, with Magic at her side.  We were surprised to see her face shining with joyful expectation as she trotted out to the field.  Clearly, allowing her to build confidence in a familiar environment before asking her to “take it on the road” was working.  Within three trips to the school, she would eagerly wait by the door to the garage in hopes of a school field outing.  It wasn’t long before she was exploring farther afield with us, hiking and swimming alongside Magic.  The days were beginning to be filled, not with timidity and fear, but with exuberance and joy.

Meantime, we worked on familiarization with other dogs.  We joined a puppy class with Skye, but did not participate.  Instead, we sat in a safe area, on the stage in the school auditorium, and watched the other puppies play.  We worked through basic behaviors, rewarding with treats and play.  As we worked, we kept an eye out for the best candidates for play sessions, and invited those puppies and owners to play dates in Skye’s backyard, one pup at a time.

On play dates, Skye would sit on my lap and watch the other dog play.  The lap was a place of safety by choice; she was allowed to leave it at any time.  She would always, eventually, feel comfortable enough to step down and investigate.

At the start of a play session with a new pup, Skye would entice a chase.  Then she would suddenly stop and make her body small, turn her head away.  If the other dog stopped and respected this signal, she would carry on playing, comfortable that she had “brakes” in place if needed.  If the dog did not respect this, she would stay still, and we would interrupt the play.  Every pup except one became a trusted playmate.  The one that failed the test was too boisterous and did not read her “brake” signals, so we stopped the puppy interaction and allowed each pup to play ball while the other watched.

An interaction with one playmate opened our eyes to just how confident Skye had grown.  Caper is a year-old border collie.  He and Skye get along splendidly, playing chase games around the yard. But at one point during a play session, Caper was drinking from the water bowl and Skye walked up alongside him for a drink.  He growled, possessive of the water bowl.  She stepped back and gave him a long and thoughtful look.  They went into another bout of play, but when they stopped for a drink she rushed over to the water bowl ahead of Caper and began playfully digging water out as fast as she could.  She stopped and glanced up.  Caper was watching her with great surprise and amusement.  He stayed where he was, confused, until she was finished with the water.

What an intelligent dog.

Skye is a character.  She is now nine months old, and she has blossomed beyond any expectations. By all appearances she is an outgoing, even bold, pup.  If I take out any kind of new object, she’s all over it before I can set it down.  She is not worried about the noise or movement of the agility see-saw.  She’s a brilliant worker, very focused.  Her love of ball and tug play has provided motivation for her to enjoy all kinds of games.  She has a lovely swimmer’s turn on a flyball box, and has never been worried about the box movement or click because it was all introduced gradually, and because she had a foundation of ‘objects are enjoyable’ before ever adding these to her object repertoire.

Her confidence has grown so strong in some areas that she’s tipping onto the “challenging” side of the scale.  She will even contest Magic over a bone that is in his possession… something we never thought possible from this quiet little waif.

This journey I had once dreaded had became the most rewarding training experience I have ever felt.  I have found joy in Skye’s joy.  I’m not sure which of us is the most reinforced by our experience.

I recently met, online, someone who adopted a sibling of Skye’s.  She played with the litter at 4 weeks of age.  When I mentioned how timid Skye was, she said “Yes, I remember your pup.  She sat under the chair while all the other pups played, watching but not wanting to come out.  When all the other pups finally fell asleep, she came out from under the chair.”

Skye has definitely come out from under the chair.  She is a contemplator:  One who analyzes the world before she interacts with it.  By giving her the choice of if and when to interact with all things novel, we have fostered in her a feeling of control over her environment, which has allowed her confidence to grow.  That confidence has been the foundation for yet more confidence.  She still needs her moments of contemplation when faced with something new.  This I respect.

We had originally requested “Stellar Reflections” for our little Skye dog’s registered name.  But by some odd twist of fate, the name was too long.  So she was registered as “Reflections”.  Appropriate because she has become, for me, reflections in how my understanding of dogs has changed over the years.  Yet again, through Kay’s guidance, I see dogs with new eyes.

I’m enjoying this journey in a way I never thought possible. I hope Skye is, too.  My goal is to provide her with experiences that develop her ability to reach for the sky… and then allow her to choose whether or not she wants to.

Skye at nine months

Chris has journalled Skye’s development by video:

1. A shy pup needs a familiarisation plan. How can the world become a place of discovery and enjoyment, rather than fear? The answer is by providing a safe haven, and then practicing discovery, seeking, enjoyment at every opportunity, always giving the pup choice of whether or not to interact with novel things, and always allowing enough time for choice to unfold.

2. The right temperament in a playmate can help build a pup's confidence.

3. Choice is a powerful concept. Allowing choice makes the difference between apprehension or fear, and enjoyment in discovery.

4. Traversing various objects helps the dog build proprioception, an awareness of - and a confidence in - her body through space and time.

5. The Great Race. Skye testing driving her new friend, Rico. A great example of co-operative play, where the one in front looks back for their chaser, and the one behind stays just far enough away to maintain a challenge but not too close!

6. Freestyle fun with Skye and Magic. Building confidence, great future

And finally at nine months old:

7. Co-ordination, balance momentum, distance and  ... confidence!

Inspiring for all owners of shy pups, and even the brave and confident can have shy days.

PO Box 13, Chipping Campden, Glos. GL55 6WX. 0(+44)1386 430189

22 February 2012