Why I'm a Trainer
I have an unusual background for a dog trainer. I come to dog training after a career in technology, followed by a career with co-called 'at-risk' high school students. I have amassed several degrees over the years, but the one I like best is my degree in Psychology with its focus on Behavior Modification techniques. I have used these techniques throughout my careers. I also used these techniques in training my own dogs and those of friend and family.
I didn't realize that it was unusual to use those techniques in dog training. It was just second nature to me and I was always successful within my limited circle.
Then I brought Boojie home from the local shelter. He is a Border Collie/Lab mix, full of steam. He was six months old, had no training, had been a backyard dog, and was very eager to please. Because Boojie, a hyper-dog, was such a challenge, I pulled in all I remembered from my degree in Behavior Modification and also began a search of dog-training literature. The create, which I had always considered distasteful, actually saved the day, as I couldn't teach Boojie jow to be in the house without him being in the house! He was too destructive to ever be unobserved and my house is too small to dedicate one part of it to contain a dog. If he wasn't in the crate, he was leashed to me and my eyes were on him. When I saw how effective the crate-training was, I realized that there was no doubt a lot I could learn about training dogs as companion animals.
During this time, I had donated a travel trailer to the SF SPCA. As part of a thank you, I was sent their monthly magazine. Searching for answers about how to handle Boojie, I opened it up to an article about this marvelous dog training academy housed at the SF SPCA. The school was based on behavior modification techniques. I then searched for articles that Jean Donaldson, the founder of the school and internationally recognized trainer and author, had written. When I found her article on how exactly to train out the resource guarding of food using behavior modification techniques, I just fell in love. I knew I had found my niche.
I graduated from Jean's school - the acclaimed SF SPCA Dog Training Academy. Some enthusiasts even call it 'The Harvard of Dog Training.' The Academy draws trainers from all over the world. My credential is reffered to as the CTC (Certificate of Training and Counseling). In earning this credential, I found out that I could get a lot, lot better at my behavior modification techniques and I have. I It's a developing field and it's a thrill to be a part of it.
So my Boojie brought me to this career. I keep a deep and abiding love for dogs like Boojie - the unruly adolescent with no training who is so nutty that you can't even hug him. These guys go straight to my heart. I also work with aggressive dogs on a case-by-base basis for the same reason.
I named the business Clear Signals because I believe in clear communications. We ask our dogs to read out body language, and then we change it on them. We ask them to learn whatever language we speak, and then we casually change what we say to them! And communication goes both ways. Dogs often give us clear signals that we miss. We ask them to learn our language; we need to learn theirs as well.
I love this business. I love my clients. I love the dogs I get to know. I'm a lucky gal.
My Beloved Dogs
When I was born, our family dog was a first generation cross of a Chow-Chow and a Rough Collie. His name, quite undeserved, was Dopey. He was cherished by my parents and seemed content. Dopey lived in a time and place where dogs had more freedom to roam. No one walked their dogs. Dopey made daily rounds in our pretty neighborhood, having chosen houses to visit within about a five block radius. He appeared at certain houses at predictable times. He sometimes stopped for a muddy swim at a little pond up the road and then rolled in the mud. We never considered not letting him out for his rounds. It was just his way. He passed away at home when I was about six.
Tawny was a Rough Collie mix. My mother brought her home from the shelter when Tawny was probably about 4 months old. She came down with distemper. My mother nursed her through it using cod liver oil tablets and lots of love. Tawny was about 50 pounds, with the beautiful Collie face and expressive bark. Tawny was a high verbal—we talked daily at length, laying down and talking face-to-face. She was the dog of my youth and my great good friend. Tawny was the first dog I ever trained.
Fancy was a small, yet tall, elegant dog. She was also a lost dog. She probably had some Italian Greyhound in her. I didn’t have the lovely Fancy long. She became lost and I never found her.
Nosebud was a Border Collie who required little training—more like a quiet explanation of what was asked for. Nosebud, as my friends said, was a gentleman. He went almost everywhere with me. Nosey and I found each other one day on the sidewalk of a six lane street in Los Angeles. Nosey was lost; I was at loose ends. No one claimed him. During those first two weeks while I was considering whether or not to keep Nosebud or find him another home, I decided to take him to a beautiful dog park in the mountains above Beverly Hills. I was pretty busy then—working full time and attending UCLA Film School full time and trying to write screenplays. But I took a break, went to the dog park, and there, that day, I met Jerry, my husband-to-be! I’ve always considered my husband to be Nosebud’s gift. Nosebud and I were together for 12 years. My husband and I are still together.
Now, I share my life with Boojems—Boojie for short. As Nosebud aged, I decided to introduce another dog to the household. Although it perked Nosey up for about a year, I think it was too hard on him. Boojems, a shelter dog, was 6 months old, 60 pounds, and probably had only been a back-yard dog. He is a border mix and is now about 80 pounds. I crate-trained Boojie and had to take very small steps with him, as he suffered from anxiety and, while enthusiastic, was easily frightened. I started with twice a day touching sessions with food rewards—eventually working my way to chest, ears, tail, feet, belly, and exposed belly. Food was the only thing that made him pay attention at first. I made him work for his food in the morning. In the evening, he had to sit quietly outside of the kitchen while I prepared his food. Then, after I placed his food on the floor, he had to wait a few minutes to approach it. Sometimes it took a long, long time (a few hours at 15 minute intervals) before he managed to get his food. I believe that this was the key to the beginning of his good manners. He’s now a marvelous dog, but he needs regular training refreshers.
When Nosebud passed, I found myself yearning to be surrounded by two big dogs. Back to the local shelter I went and there I found the answer to this yearning in a very improbable package. Overweight, lethargic, and sporting many unattractive fatty tumors, this seven-year-old straight-backed German Shepherd Dog had been there awhile. But the staff adored him, they used him regularly for play groups, and I thought my husband might come to enjoy a big, fluffy dog he could hug. I owed Jerry something after inflicting Boojie on us! I expected that the Shepherd would only live a year or so, but I thought I could give him a nice last year. To my surprise, he’s the hit of the household. After a rough first week (he marked a bookcase once, threw up once, and dug a bunch of holes—all from being nervous), he’s now trim, he’s good-looking, people always want to pet him, the cat loves him, Boojie adores him like a big brother, and my husband does, in fact, like to give him a hug. This beautifully-mannered dog shows no sign of leaving us any time soon. What a find. His name is Dusty.
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