Locket and I have been taking a series of classes at her school and the comment I hear the most from my human classmates is some variation on the theme of  “My dog only does what it wants to, not what I want it to do.” I can relate. After all,  I am in these classes  to help Locket listen to me when we walk rather than  lunge at other dogs when she is on her leash.

 (Progress report— Locket and I are doing awesome. Just yesterday three different barking dogs lunged at her during our morning walk. In each instance,  she looked at them and looked back at me as soon as I said “leave it.” I got a treat in her mouth right away and  she trotted alongside me for more snacks and left the other dogs alone to keep barking. Big wins.)

As we know, I am no expert dog trainer or animal behavior specialist, but  my understanding is that, like my classmates reported,  dogs do what they want to do. The point of training is not so much to subvert their will or dominate them,  but to help the  dog want to do what I want her to do. Of course this process takes time, patience, clarity, ongoing practice,  and lots of tasty rewards.

Truth be told,  I am just like Locket— I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it.  The only sustained practices I have are those practices that I want to do. While some imposition of will can be useful initially, I have not found fighting against myself or my desires to be a viable long-term strategy. The behaviors that last are the ones I enjoy, that are more valuable to me than the ease of living without them. Contrary to what many people think, I am not all that disciplined. 

When working with Locket, I got clear about what I’d like my dog to do, rather than obsessing about  what I didn’t want her to do.  For instance, I want to Locket to walk by my side and to look at me when she sees another dog.  This idea seems basic enough but, in all honesty, I spent over a year wanting her to not bark or lunge at other dogs. Focusing on what I didn’t want her to do didn’t seem to help her change or help me feel sane. And, of course, anyone who has done any goal-setting or work with intentions, remembers the basic protocol is state your aim in positive terms. 

Next, in any given moment, I have to get my dog’s attention. Years ago, during an agility lesson with Locket, she was roaming around the ring sniffing and doing her own thing. Our trainer looked at me and said,  “What you have is a disinterested dog. You have to find a way to be more interesting than that dirt she is sniffing.” (Note to self:  be more interesting than dirt, be sexier than a squirrel, become more thrilling  than barking at other dogs.) As we all know, sometimes getting to our mats, to the cushion,  or even to the kitchen to make a wholesome meal is not at all as interesting as sniffing around Facebook, not as sexy as it seems on Instagram, nor is it as initially exciting as barking at others.  

When I am the disinterested dog, sometimes doing a simple pose, getting a friend to practice with me, or taking a class from someone else  renews my enthusiasm and inspires my creativity. What rarely works to ignite my interest  is a lot of harsh self-criticism cataloguing my failures as a practitioner and teacher.  Along those same lines, if I play training games with Locket  throughout the day, she is much more likely to pay attention to me when we are walking  than if I only engage with her when she is  mid-bark or mid-lunge. Without regular engagement, she is simply in the habit of following her own impulses rather than listening to me.  

I suppose this is all so interesting to me because well, as we know I love my dog. But, in addition to that, the principles of positive, reward-based training  stand in stark opposition to some of how I was initially trained in the process of personal growth.  Most of my early training had the flavor of a dominance model where the teachings and practices were delivered from the alpha  and to be implemented whether I wanted to do them or not. (And for the record,  all the apha/pack leader stuff  used to justify harsh training methods with dogs is based on observing  unrelated wolves in captivity, rather than related wolves in wild packs. At any rate, that’s another blog entry for the day when I am actually a dog trainer, not a yoga teacher.)

My point is that I spent many years  of practice being the dominating  alpha dog  toward my inner pup and while I got some initial positive  results, it kinda broke my spirit along the way.  Turns out, I respond well to my own praise, to getting treats along the way, and to regular games called practice that make life on the mat, the cushion, and in consciousness more desirable than barking at myself and others. 

Like Locket, I have big wins and  plenty of places to refine and keep practicing. 

Okay, off to play some Asana Junkies.