Good goodbyes.
The longer I work for a pet products company, and don’t have a pup to call my own, the more I feel like a fraud. From morning to night, I live and breathe animals. But I won’t harp on that hole in my heart because I simply can’t have a 4-legged friend at this point in my life due to current housing restrictions. The good news though is that one day, when I am able to become a FurMom, I’ll be ridiculously prepared to humanely raise a confident, obedient, and happy doggie.
Since my short tenure in the industry, I’ve had the privilege of meeting two of the most prestigious, well-respected trainers in the world. These guys are polar opposites of the domineering, pro-wolfpack leader Caesar Milan - their training techniques simply couldn’t be any different. You see, this breed of educators believes in a method called Positive Reinforcement. While I have zero credibility to professionally advise on this methodology, I at least know enough and have seen dozens of demonstrations to understand that we don’t have to physically or emotionally abuse pets in order to get them to do what we want.
While I sat in a seminar today given by a sharp, witty chap who is the equivalent of Martha Stewart in the canine kitchen, prepared to hear wisdom and insight that helps foster relationships between people and their pets, it threw me for quite a loop when the British-bred gentleman overlapped the fundamental principles to training animals with training children, and even spouses. More on that later.
I am completely fascinated by sociology, psychology, and the subconscious, so the man had my undivided attention. As a matter of fact, he is such a great speaker and fully captures your focus, I bet that is exactly how his paw-clad clients feel too.
For starters, the best way to change behavior is to reward good behavior.
But many owners rely on another approach. Inducing frustration and fear. There are 3 types of torture - inflicting pain, loss of control, and no predictability [which is the worst kind - being afraid is the highest/strongest emotional trait]. The side effects of punishment is aggressiveness/defensiveness, emotionally shutting down/depressed, and physical damage [i.e. choke collars damaging the trachea]. And to think, people do this to their alleged “best friend.”
All mammals are the same in the sense that we associate a bad experience, and then try to avoid it. That is called a behavior response. So the concept with Positive Reinforcement [vs. using Negative Punishment] is to reward the behavior that you want your dog to repeat. If you consistently and continually do so, they figure out that X Behavior = Y Positive Outcome [treat, belly rub, get to sit on the couch, etc.].
By either rewarding a good behavior, or if you want your dog to stop doing something, you have no more than 3 seconds to reinforce it - they’ll put two and two together and learn the association. This is the Law of Effect…situations accompanied or closely followed by satisfaction will be more clearly connected with the situation, and the opposite is true too. So if you come home to find your trash raided or carpet soiled, don’t bother flipping off the handle because your pooch won’t know what the hell he did wrong.
Classical Conditioning is when your pet learns to associate between 2 stimuli. One great example the trainer shared is when he has visitors over at house, they walk to the kitchen upon arrival and gives his dogs a treat. Over time, the dogs learned that visitors = positive experience. So now they don’t bark and go crazy at the door knocking, instead they sit nicely and behave properly knowing there is a benefit just around the corner. But don’t think for a second they won’t know when it is an intruder ~ their sixth sense is paramount.
Another interesting piece of knowledge is that there is no learning of “behavior” without feeling, thus you learn to respond [behave] to signals that have induced a feeling. All mammals including humans have the same original brain structure. We share at least 7 common emotional systems & learn/refine behavior the same. The most important system is fear. So think about it. If you are put in a position of fear, how do you react?
A seemingly small tip but could be huge for dogs who battle boredom — is never feed them meals in a bowl. Put food in a treat/kibble-dispensing dog toy, dampen the food, and stuff it in the container. This is especially good for when the owner has to leave the house — keeping them entertained, mentally stimulated, and busy. You should leverage this easy, daily task and put it to better use.
And this is where the lecture got really perverse.
He said humans, horses and dogs are the only mammals who put up with abuse. You’ll never see a cat, parrot or bear put up with it. And not only that, we are punished and keep coming back [only if there was an established relationship before the abuse began]. Although it sound totally backwards, we all have a need to be wanted and needed, and sometimes even being mistreated…won’t stop us from coming back for more.
Ninety percent of training is getting your dog to want to do what you want him to do. If you scare the living daylights out of him, sure he may do the deed, but it isn’t a pleasant experience for either one of you, and he won’t be inclined to repeat the behavior on his own. Teaching a dog to understand us, has to be treated like teaching a child ESL. If a kid isn’t picking up quickly during a reading assignment, would you shock, beat him, or pull sharp little knives into his neck? No. You’d pull your patience together and keep trying. This is the exact same concept as teaching a dog how to heel.
Kindergarden teachers are the best trainers of all. They can command an entire classroom of 30 little people, and not even raise their voice, by standing still with their arms crossed and say absolutely nothing. Eventually the kids will be quiet and listen. Then, in a soft tone the teacher thanks them [rewards the behavior] and continues with her lesson. So you see, the same concepts can be applied to kids, as you would a pet. Achieving the exact same outcome just by being consistent, calm and not showing attention to the unwanted behavior.
If your vocal 4-legged child goes crazy when the mailman comes by the house, teach him how to lay on a mat. Treat him when he gets it right. Once he has learned the behavior, when the mailman comes again, tell him to go to the mat - then treat him. Eventually he’ll associate the mailman with going to the mat automatically.
Additionally, just as our dogs want to please us and react strongly to positivity and praise, so do children and companions. If you scold your youngster for not writing the letter “e” in the right direction, they’ll be discouraged and not look forward to showing you their homework again. If you ridicule your spouse for not taking out the trash after you asked him to earlier that morning, he’ll probably avoid you like the plague the rest of the night. On the contrary, if you twist the approach by instead saying, “Joey you did a great job writing ‘e’ [then show it to him in a mirror reflection], let’s see if you can try copying how it looks in this image too” and thanking your forgetful housemate when he *does* take out the garbage [reinforcement].
And just like that, it hit me. We really are all so similar. Responding to kindness, gratitude and encouragement goes so much farther than manipulation, anger and loud noises. So whether it’s your little girl/boy, cutie patootie pooch or partner…try reinforcing the good behavior first and foremost and you’ll get a lot farther, faster.
His parting words had nothing to do with training, either. Instead he left us with a sentiment to be appreciative.
“So many people mourn the loss of their pets…their hearts completely break. Yet they take them for granted while they’re here. So, hug them today. Kiss them today. Have fun with them today. Every single time, give them good hellos, and good goodbyes.”
Passionately imperfect.
When I’m not writing about shopping for a husband, I’m probably thinking about dogs.
My full-time job is for a pet products company ~ our brands are super popular in the dog community, from toys to training tools. Every single day when I go to the office, and every single day when I leave [and may or may not make it to the gym]…I’m genuinely happy. How can you not be when they’re randomly dispersed throughout the cubicles, smiling and sniffing as you mindlessly walk to the printer or potty?
It has always been my personal belief to have a job doing what you truly love. I would never take a position at some random business just for the sake of getting a paycheck. Life is entirely too short & can be quite stressful to spend the majority of our waking hours *not* investing time and energy actually enjoying the tasks at hand.
Before now, my employers have in someway, shape or form encompassed non-profits, causes, or benefited people in a meaningful way…via marketing. That is my passion and calling in life. And, before today, I basically thought canines were super duper cute, and bring smiles to pretty much everyone who crosses their paw path…which in its own right, is a beautiful accomplishment ~ strengthening the human-animal bond.
These last two days have been spent in the company of pet bloggers at a conference. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when registering. Initially there were a few moments when I felt like a total outsider, for 2 specific reasons: I actually styled my outfits and have a matching, coordinated ensemble, and, I don’t own a pet.
When I caught myself quietly sizing up the lack of polished presentations and frankly, looking a bit scruffy (pun unintended), I mentally slapped myself. We’re not at freaking NYC fashion week MaryB, get a grip. Most of these people pour their heart & soul into their blogs and pets, they certainly don’t have the time or concern for a killer closet.
As far as being sans furry friend, this has been an ongoing struggle since I accepted the position. For reasons too long to explain here, my living situation does not currently allow it. So instead, I live vicariously through my colleagues & friends’ 4-legged children. I have embraced and found my Super Aunt niche.
I digress ~ so in addition to feeling uninspired by the afterthought outfits, on a few occassions, I also subconsciously caught myself slightly judging their, let’s call it, passion for pets. And by passion, I mean borderline crazy/infatuation/obsession.
Then after back-to-back keynote speakers, I was kicked on my generously sized ass. There are thousands of shelters that still kill unadopted animals on the regular. There are thousands of dogs who serve as “canine companions” for disabled people and literally change their daily quality of life on a large and small scale. The countless stories of how compassionate animals are, how they only want to serve and please *us*, and how much inexplicable joy they’ve given millions of lives, brought me to tears.
Moving forward, my 9-5 job will be seen through an entirely different lense. These creatures aren’t just warm and fuzzy, cute-to-look-at objects. They actually serve a purpose, a much larger purpose than most of us realize.
You see, animals don’t judge us. No other life form on the planet knows negativity, only humans. Watch any plant or animal and let it teach you acceptance. Let it teach you integrity — which means to be yourself, to be real.
Author Eckhart Tolle said, “I have lived with several Zen masters - all of them cats. Even ducks have taught me important spiritual lessons. Just watching them is a meditation. How peacefully they float along, at ease with themselves, totally present in the Now, dignified and perfect as only a mindless creature can be.”
God gave us these best friends to make our walk on earth just a little bit nicer…and I can’t wait to call one my own.
Best friend, part 1.
This week I’ve had the absolute pleasure of dog-sitting to help a colleague who is out of the country. The two furry friends have been nothing but sweet, affectionate, attentive, and cuddly. Having this experience has only exacerbated my strong desire to adopt a pooch STAT.
From being greeted at the door with a smile, followed to every room as if they just can’t bare to go a second without seeing my face, crawling into bed and spooning my body’s crevices, proping a paw onto a leg or arm to feel a direct skin-to-skin connection…makes me melt.
They absolutely fascinate me.
Simultaneously, while I’ve had these fur balls at my disposal, I’ve been emotionally battling with 2-legged affection in my life. I look into their innocent eyes… who clearly want nothing more than to please me, and find myself frustrated that I can’t find, or have, a human partner to do the same.
Upon returning from my beach getaway 7 short days ago, which included time with the Quarterback [“QB”], I knew that sooner than later “The Talk” would have to happen. Not because the dating calendar tells me so, but because my major organs are probably developing ulcers from the level of frustration manifesting internally.
Here is a snapshot of how the week played out.
Monday: Invited him to friend’s birthday dinner, but gave him the “out” option without guilt-tripping, as he had been out of town for almost 2 weeks then went straight to the beach. He took me up on my get-out-of-jail-free card. During the same convo I extended an open invitation to come visit me at the dog castle anytime during the week.
Tuesday: He was supposed to be watching Game 6 of the NBA finals with a friend. When we spoke later in the night, he was at home, alone. Hmmm…strange he didn’t invite me to watch it with him. I also emailed him beach photos earlier in the day, to which he didn’t respond. I asked if he got them — he did.
Wednesday: I convey that I have “some things on my mind” and would prefer to tell him in person. But still, no plans are set.
Thursday: A friend encourages me to take matters in to my own hands and nail down a specific time & place to see each other face-to-face. Ugh, fine. Game 7, last one in the finals series, dog castle has a huge HD TV. He is in.
Over the course of the uneventful week, I slowly got more and more angry, and disappointed. Why didn’t he make plans to see me, especially now that his elusive work travel schedule has subsided? Why didn’t he take me up on the open visitation invitation? Why does he insist on not taking two whole seconds to respond to my emails to simply say, ”I got the photos, thanks”? Why. Why! Why?
T-minus 1 hour before the showdown, I could actually feel my blood on a low boil, so S-O-S dialed for back-up — a good guyfriend I’ve known for 15 years was the perfect solution. I needed testosterone-perspective guidance on how to approach “The Talk.” I didn’t want to scare the manfriend-in-training, metaphorically rip his balls off, or trash his ego. But I also wanted to articulate where my head is at, along with what I need to happen in order to be fulfilled in the TBD relationship.
I hung up the phone 30 minutes later feeling much calmer with a strategic plan in place for the dialogue’s content, order, and tone. 1) Tell him how much I’ve enjoyed spending the time we have together these last few months. 2) Tell him I would like to make sure we’re on the same page before moving any farther. 3) Assuming he is in agreement, ask what nuances & pet peeves he has within relationships to help us along the way, then share mine with him.
Absolutely brilliant.
But when he arrived, I immediately knew that the plan of attack would be shot to shit. He was in a bad mood — frustrated from driving around aimlessly for 20 minutes trying to find a US Postal mailbox.
Great.
The game would be starting in about 45 minutes. He asks if, “I’m ready.” I should first explain that the man is a super duper, over-the-top, lifetime fan of the Lakers. His professional job is in the sports industry, and his personal job is supporting the Los Angeles-based NBA basketball team. Period. The only colors he sees on the rainbow are yellow & purple.
Call me an idiot, but I thought that if we had “The Talk” before tip-off, there wouldn’t be an issue. I thought wrong.
QB: “Are you ready? This is serious stuff. Blah blah blah. No heart-to-heart’s tonight. Blah blah blah.”
Me: (I snickered and shook my head).
QB: “Wait (eyes get big) did you want to have a heart-to-heart tonight??”
Me: “Actually, yeah, I did. But nevermind.”
QB: “Well, now you have to tell me.”
Me: “Basically, after coming back from the beach trip & having a good time, I got to thinking about us and where we’re headed. All joking aside…I know I’ve given you some grief about still having a profile up on Match.com…but I just wonder why that is. And really I just wanted to touch base and see how you’re feeling about things, especially now that your work schedule is loosening up.”
QB: “Well I was just waiting for us to have ‘The Talk’ I guess.”
Me: “Well, this is ‘The Talk.’ “
Now, I don’t recall exactly what was said after this part, because I think the Disappointment radiated so loud inside my ear drums, that I didn’t quite capture the specific words. But he told me, more or less, that he couldn’t talk about anything serious. He was too focused, too scatterbrained about the pending game.
And what was ironic about this corrupt outcome was that one of the things I wanted to share with him during “The Talk” was how I wish he was more proactive, engaging, and decisive. For example, when he doesn’t do things such as simply responding/acknowledging an email or text, it makes me feel like what I’m saying isn’t important to him. And so what did he just do…shut me down when I try to have “The Talk”…making me feel unimportant.
Granted, do I now regret trying to have a relationship-talk before the biggest game of the year in his world? Yes. Should it have taken place on some random park bench with little distractions? Probably so. But I *had* to get this pent-up stuff out of my system, and it was the first opportunity I got face time.
The game starts and I was basically checked out. Not to mention I was almost beside myself how he treated the dogs, or rather, didn’t treat them. He paid them no attention and it just blew my mind. I know, The Game was on. I get it. But seriously, how could you not pet this sweetie pie? Even the pup was disappointed!
All I wanted to do was fast forward to Game Over and call it a night, not to mention that by the 3rd quarter I could barely keep my eyes open. When I walked him to the door to say good night, his last words were, “We can *talk* tomorrow.”
Well apparently my icky attitude that was written all over my face marinated with him overnight, because I woke up in the morning to a text that said, “I really don’t think you were feeling the game. Sorry to waste your time. Thanks for inviting me over.”
Stay tuned for the next blog — Best friend, part 2.
BFF.
Like many middle-class American families, mine grew up with a dog to complement our human household. Our first pet joined us in the late 80’s soon after moving to the outskirts of DC; an adorable Boston Terrier named Patty.
That energetic, ambitious young boy would not stay inside our unfenced yard, despite our reprimanding efforts. One fateful afternoon my neighborhood girlfriend knocked on the front door while my nightshift-working nurse mother slept upstairs. Sabrina pointed behind her, “Is that your dog?” I screamed a curse word then immediately retracted it with a more G-rated version, “SHOOT” – while sprinting down the steep front yard hill, to scoop up our beloved doggie lying on the ground, seemingly glued to red-covered pavement. My bloody murder yelp woke mother from her vampire-hours REM sleep and the rest gets a little blurry.
While my parents took over possession of Patty, I continued my sprint, but this time down the block. My brother closest in age to me, the technical “owner” of our dog, was at a friend’s house. I called for him from the sidewalk as he stuck his head out the window. When I told him what had happened, he thought I was kidding. After pleading with him over and over, he finally came downstairs and headed home. The last visual of that experience is of my Mom holding our deceased dog in a wrapped blanket while my father reversed out of the driveway headed to the vet.
We later buried our 4-legged family member in the backyard, and used a makeshift gravestone (slab of rock) to remember his legacy.
That experience from the eyes of a 9-year-old is seared into my memory.
Not too long later, we acquired another Boston, her name was Molly. She lived a long life full of love and became a cornerstone in our hearts. Just as people have quirks, so do canines. She would turn in complete circles, at least 8 times, before lying down in her miniature bed (I never could understand why she did that, but I guess it was the equivalent of us fluffing our pillows). She snored. She dreamed while asleep and made ticks and tremors during naps (I always wondered what her unconscious imagination & visions were about — my guess was an intense game of catch and/or playing with other dogs). When Mom wasn’t around, she rebelled and slept in the nook of our couch. She verbally greeted all of our home’s visitors at the door. As a rather small statured companion, she intellectually believed her height was much larger than her true low-level reality. She once ate an entire stick of butter and massive steak that was thawing while we attended church.
She didn’t care for the snow. She had a love/hate relationship with our next door neighbor’s devil dog. On a few occasions I used her as a scapegoat to sneak out at night during high school (by letting her out to “do her business” but when I opened the door to let her back in, I would not join). She was sweet as pie and showed unconditional affection. Out of character, but protective nonetheless, she nipped (broke skin) on the face of my prom date, just after he popped the question (I was mortified, but what do you expect when you get up close and personal in the grill of a dog who doesn’t know you?)
Old age brought many issues and once her quality of life was irreversibly and inevitably compromised, my parental units had to “put her down.” I was away at college when Molly’s time on earth came to an end, and remember how quiet and cold the house felt during my next several trips back during semester breaks. It is amazing how much a furry creature, that can’t even speak English, impacts and enriches our lives. Although it’s fascinating how owners spoil their pets like royalty, sometimes even better than their own offspring, there is just something about being treated the same – day in and day out – with a smile, with loyalty, and with unspoken love.
Ever since the trusty and reliable wagging tail left our permanent residence, I’ve never felt the same. A pivotal piece has been missing in my adult life – a pet. For more reasons than I have room to list, living conditions just haven’t been conducive to owning one. Refusing to crate for 8+ hours a day has always been the primary hurdle. But now that my career has taken a nosedive directly into the very industry that promotes the strengthening of human-pet relationships, I have access to incredible discounts on innovative, humane pet products, and am even allowed to have a +1 in my cubicle, the desire to have a dog is becoming, has become unbearable.
And no, I refuse to compromise with a cat. Period.
The infamous best of the best dog show, Westminster Kennel Club, is on day two of championship judging. Whereas I’m normally invested in dreadful, train-wreck reality TV episodes and mainstream primetime news magazine shows, the Animal Planet network has wiggled its way into MaryB’s evening lineup. My hope is that education and further exposure will help dilute my manic mood swings for a pup.
Picking a breed that will work for my interests, lifestyle, activity level and space constraints all factor into adoption decisions. Someone recently recommended I get a dog who likes to run, so I can incorporate my own running routine and not have to walk the dog separately. Sounds genius to me.
Here is what I do know:
- Pro: I would take another Boston in a heartbeat. Con: Unfortunately they’ve become very popular in the last several years, and I always seem to go against society trends.
- Pro: I love pit bulls. Con: I hate their stigmas and my human sidekick doesn’t care for them.
- Pro: I love big bodied Great Danes, Rottweilers, Boxers, Weimaraners, etc. Con: I don’t have adequate room for their XL circumference.
Providing a loving, comforting, safe space for a shelter-based buddy to become my new best friend is something I’ve wanted to get my paws on for a very long time. At over 30-years-old, I am still not anywhere near ready for the responsibility of bringing a little human into this world. Baby spit-ups and burping can wait, but drool and rawhide bones cannot.
Raise the woof.
I got a job. I got a job. I got a job!
Excuse my incessant tail wagging but when life arrives on your doorstep in a big bow, it is hard to resist. My new position & new people who I will be spending most of my waking hours with are fantastic.
But before I get ahead of myself, do you want the good news or bad news? Ok bad it is.
- I tacked on 10 more minutes to my commute, for a grand total of 30. Have I mentioned how much I loathe driving?
- I inherited an extra toll booth, for a grand total of 3 each way. Quantifying that cost, I’m looking at almost $25 each week just to participate at work. Have I told you how broke I am?
- I downgraded from a MAC laptop to an archaic PC desktop. I won’t even entertain the silly TV commercials, there is no question which computer system is supreme.
- I moved from a corner office with (many) windows, full equipped with a company-provided plant, to a desolate corner cubicle. Dreadful.
Now for the good.
- My role is couture, to fit my creative curves. Just how I like it. Not sure how I’ve managed to pull this off, but every job I’ve ever had has been custom designed for my skill sets and interests. Not only do I get to stay within my comfort zone and finagle in public relations and viral marketing, but I’m also expanding my wing span to include brand management…something I’ve never done. My products range from established heavy hitters already in market to brand spankin’ new ones I’ll help birth in the delivery room.
- Did I mention these products are within the pet industry? I love love love animals. Grew up with a Boston Terrier and my insides haven’t been right after losing Molly. I melt on sight at four-legged friends.
- The building is gigantic with a production facility, warehouse and office space… the perfect equation to feel barren and cold. But oh no, that isn’t the case, because it has furry friends in every nook and cranny. Employees bring their pets to work. Not only does that make for much more eventful trips down hallways, but it is efficient since product testing takes place on the regular.
- My job security is sky high. This business and the industry itself are doing very well. Even though the economy is in a sad state, consumers continue to treat their pets like their own children.
Speaking of, the beau and I have been yapping about adopting a pup for years now, but can never decide on a breed. We both bark out our individual argument for varying paw sizes. Ultimately, backyard space or lack there of, has always been the deciding factor. Sooner or later, a duel petship will take place, but I’m thinking sooner given my new daytime gig. And besides, I’m not ready to produce a 2-legged offspring, so a cutie patootie canine will have to suffice for now instead.
