The (partial) rehabilitation of a rogue wolfhound
Darcy was always a confident young madam!
The Beginning, March 2002 - March 2003
Not having had a puppy for nearly six years, we delighted in taking young Darcy out and about from a very early age. She was introduced to people, traffic, horses, dogs and the world at large, and attended weekly ringcraft and obedience classes from the age of four months. We often took her to our shopping centre on Saturday mornings, and she visited the residents at our local home for disabled people. Nothing fazed her, and we felt we had a confident, out-going, well-balanced and well socialised young wolfhound. And so we did, until . . .
Her behaviour with people, and especially children,
was always exemplary.
The Downward Spiral, April 2003 - May 2004
The first warning sign came when she was just over a year old and growled at a young, boisterous, male labrador during a ringcraft class. At the time, we didn't think much about it - dogs do growl, after all, and although she occasionally repeated the behaviour, we didn't consider it a serious problem.
Clicker training in action.
How could we let her down?
        |
We knew the importance of socialising a youngster, and believed we'd done a good job.
In autumn 2003, we returned to ringcraft and obedience classes after the summer break. At first all was well . . . well, just the occasional growl when another dog got uppity with her, but dogs will be dogs . . . Gradually though, her behaviour deteriorated to the point where she was regularly growling, lunging, snarling and snapping at other dogs. From being mainly black labradors, her range extended to include almost every dog in the class until by spring 2004 we were under self-imposed isolation within the class. Reprimands were ineffective - shouting at her, shaking her by the scruff, making strong eye contact whenever she went for another dog - nothing stopped the steady deterioration in her behaviour.
As the problem occurred almost exclusively at classes, the simple option was to stop attending them. As far as ringcraft was concerned, Darcy knew her stuff anyway, and although we were reluctant to abandon obedience with the only wolfhound we'd ever had who showed any aptitude, it seemed the sensible solution to what had become an intractable problem.
Rock Bottom No 1, May 2004
In early May 2004, we visited our neighbouring island of Jersey with Darcy and Branigan, where Darcy was to take part a dog show. We arrived at the venue early, the day was warm, the show indoors, and we wanted to avoid exposing Darcy to the crush of dogs and people inside for any longer than we had to.
So we settled down to wait outside, but the only shade we could find was by the main exit doors . . . bad mistake!! Darcy could see every dog who came through the doors and believed they were headed straight for her, an intolerable situation for her. In spite of wearing a Halti, she became more and more agitated, lunging and snarling at every dog she saw.
Once we moved away from the doors we were able to calm her, and she behaved reasonably well during her classes, but the stress and anxiety of the day made us realise that we could no longer drift on as we had been doing.
Help! May - September 2004
On our return home, we consulted a qualified animal behaviourist, who took a great pains to analyse the problem and devise a training plan. We considered whether Darcy had an inappropriate view of her place in the pack, but although we can't claim to enforce all of Jan Fennell's bonding rules in The Dog Listener, we've always ensured that our dogs know that we are alpha. We eat before them, restrict their movements around the house, precede them through doors etc, and Darcy deferred to us in everything except this one behaviour, so there was no reason to think that she had taken onto herself the role of pack defender.
Darcy's breeder had told us that one of her great-grandsires was a notoriously aggressive dog. The root of the problem seemed to lie in this inherited tendency coupled with a fear-based reaction to other dogs due to being constrained by the lead, as she was rarely aggressive off the lead.
Considering these factors, the plan was to build up her confidence around other dogs using clicker training combined with a selection of Bach Flower Remedies to calm her mentally.
Our goal was that whenever she saw another dog she would sit in front of us and make eye contact, being rewarded with a small piece of chicken, something she received at no other time.
In theory, she would learn that the approach of another dog was good news and start to welcome them with open arms . . .
Wrong! All that summer, we persisted with the training programme, knowing that it would take some time to undo the behaviour pattern that we had allowed to form over the previous year. Even when it was apparent that it wasn't working, we kept on, confident that it would be effective in time.
Rock Bottom No 2, October 2004
We didn't return to classes that autumn as we knew Darcy wasn't ready, but we did enter her in a local dog show. We knew we would have to watch her carefully in the lead-up to her classes, but were confident that she would behave herself in the ring, as she seemed to know instinctively that the other dogs being shown in the ring were no threat to her. Wrong again!
Darcy and a Rhodesian ridgeback were the only dogs competing in the AVNPC (Any Variety Not Previously Classified) Class. Darcy was standing in line behind the ridgeback when the judge came over to say that she had won. As we moved into the centre of the ring, the ridgeback, a young dog at his first show and with an inexperienced handler, moved towards Darcy. That was enough - she lunged at him, snarling. The spat was over in seconds - at no time did she ever push home her attacks and she was easily pulled off, but for such an incident to occur in the show ring was deeply embarrassing, and never did a judge hand over a rosette so reluctantly.
Having won her class, we went back into ring for the Best in Group judging, together with some 10-12 dogs. The judge asked each handler to move their dog out and back across the ring. When it was our turn, the judge realised that our course would take us straight towards the line of dachshunds and said, "Take her as far as . . . weeeellll . . . take her as far as you think prudent." The implication that I had an uncontrollably aggressive and dangerous dog was mortifying, especially as I knew that Darcy could be trusted absolutely with such small dogs. Our humiliation was complete.
Needless to say, we didn't place in the group, and I came out of the ring vowing that this had been Darcy's last ever dog show. End of obedience, end of showing, end of problem - she would just be an ordinary, stay-at-home dog.
Turning the Corner, November 2004
Except that when we told our friend, Edita Dobrovolná (Really Irish Wolfhounds) of our decision, she refused to let us give up. From her knowledge of Darcy through the website and our correspondence, Edita had faith that Darcy could be rehabilitated, and made us realise that we owed it her to make one more effort.
But how to tackle the problem? We had taken the best advice available, and the problem had become worse. Why?
Darcy was a loving and affectionate dog to us and to the other dogs at home, happy to meet other dogs when she was off the lead, friendly and self-assured with strangers and children, so why did she behave so aggressively to dogs when on the lead? She had been well socialised as a puppy and had never been attacked by another dog. We had been told that her aggression was due to fear, but we suddenly realised that we had never actually seen her afraid of anything - Darcy just doesn't 'do' timid. So . . . what if it wasn't fear? All the work we had done aimed at building up her confidence was based on that assumption, but if she wasn't afraid it was pointless . . . no wonder we hadn't made any progress.
From that point, we started to really think hard about Darcy, to assess the character of this beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, capricious wolfhound that we had known and loved for nearly three years. We also tried to use our experience of other wolfhounds, and gradually, painfully slowly, we came to some useful conclusions:
1 Darcy was not, ever, fearful. Our first bitch, Clancy, was, and was sometimes aggressive, but her timidity was obvious, and her 'modus operandi' very different from Darcy's instantaneous lunge-and-snarl technique, as Clancy would try to convince the other dog to back off so as to avoid a fight if at all possible.
2 However, Darcy was irritable and short tempered. For instance, she couldn't rest if there was a single fly in the room, but had to chase and snap at it. She was also emotionally sensitive - easily upset by shouting or rough handling.
3 She was a very 'foodie' dog. Food was, and always had been, extremely important to her, unusually so for a wolfhound.
4 She was physically sensitive, literally a very touchy dog, who hated being groomed tended to over-react to minor injuries.
Putting all these factors together, we looked again at what we had been doing with clicker training, and could see why she was getting worse: every time a dog came near her, Darcy was being asked to sit and make eye contact, while we held a delicious tit-bit above her head. To her, this must have seemed like holding a handful of diamonds out in front of a known thief! No wonder she snapped!
"Handle with care, please Daddy, I'm a sensitive flower, you know!"
Food, any food, was very important to Darcy.
Progress at last, December 2004 - May 2005
We were now convinced that the underlying problem was not fear, but bad temper and bad manners. She wasn't trying to prevent the other dog from attacking her, she was simply saying "Don't you dare come near my food!" and having a temper tantrum. And her tactic had worked brilliantly for her, as every time she growled or lunged at a dog we immediately removed her from the dog's vicinity.
We tested the theory by stopping carrying tit-bits on walks. The off lead attacks, which had become gradually more frequent, stopped completely. Encouraged by this, we introduced her to John Fisher training discs, which pin-point and interrupt unwanted behaviour, in the same way that a clicker identifies a desirable behaviour.
The next step was to return to obedience class. We chose a quieter class with just 4-5 dogs, and for the first few weeks took no tit-bits. Whenever Darcy growled or lunged at a dog, we clinked the discs, and she stopped immediately. Slowly, as her behaviour improved, we were using the discs less often and we gradually reintroduced tit-bits (though, crucially, not until Darcy's personal space was clear of dogs). We changed to a busier class (and with more black labs!) and then increased the 'value' of the tit-bits. We returned to ringcraft classes, took part in a match (an informal dog show) and finally, on 15th May 2005, a year after we first hit 'rock bottom', Darcy took part in the Guernsey Dog Club Spring Open Show . . .
Even labradors were OK if they weren't after her food.
Lessons Learned, May 2005 - February 2006
We knew that nothing we had done had changed Darcy's underlying character. In spite of her many fine qualities (affectionate, self-possessed, undemanding, intelligent, biddable and very, very lovable) she remained a dog who operated on a 'short fuse'. We tried to carry training discs with us whenever it was likely that she would meet dogs on the lead, but realistically, we knew her bad temper would probably get the better of her sooner or later. However, in all her 'tantrums' she was never forceful in her attacks - they were more of a token gesture, scary to witness, but more of an embarrassment to us and the breed than a danger in themselves.
We learnt two very important lessons from Darcy: Firstly, if your dog has a behavioural problem it is always worthwhile consulting training experts and reading as much as you can about canine psychology, but don't underestimate the value of your own knowledge and experience. Secondly, Edita was right - never give up on your wolfhound!
LATER UPDATES
February 2006
In the previous nine months there were no serious incidents of aggression, the only 'blot' on Darcy's copybook being the occasional warning growl to dogs who, in her opinion, were getting above themselves. Because of this we were still monitoring her behaviour closely, knowing that eternal vigilance was the price of peace.
December 2006
Clearing out a cupboard, I came across Darcy's muzzle. Never worn, but bought in desperation and fear that she would seriously injure another dog. Hard to believe that we ever thought it necessary, and I really had to think hard to remember how unmanageable her behaviour had been at its worst. The training discs had long fallen into disuse, even at obedience classes, and Darcy was invariably returning to us, often without being called, on meeting any dog on a walk.
October 2007
Two incidents earlier in the year served to remind us of the piranha within. Neither was serious, and in both cases our inattention was partly to blame. For the last six months Darcy's behaviour had given us no cause for concern, in spite of attending a large number of dog shows over the summer.
January 2009 - Rock bottom for the third time
Still she could catch us unawares. For months on end she behaved impeccably, but twice in the last few months she has attacked other dogs, both times in very similar circumstances: we're relaxed, chatting to other dog owners, and unnoticed by us she would find something to snack on, be it horse-poo or seaweed. The other dog would try to investigate what Darcy has - and kerPOWW!! She exploded and has to be pulled off her victim. The most recent incident involved a six month old border collie needing 18 stitches in a wound to her leg, the first time Darcy had ever inflicted such an injury. Already deeply troubled, a visit from the police the next day brought home to us the seriousness of her latest attack as nothing else could.
We reconsidered the muzzle, but could not bring ourselves to do it. We clearly couldn't continue as we were though, and therefore resolved that when only one of us was available for dog walks (ie during the working week) she must be walked on her own, and must go on the lead whenever she is in the presence of another dog.
Sticking to these 'rules' keep us free from major incidents for the remaining 16 months of Darcy's life.
"Who are you calling bad tempered?!"