If my relationship to my dog is any indicator of the trials of love, then it’d be fair to say that questions of the heart are not easy -even for the sweetest of us (which could certainly describe my canine bud). Indeed, he and I have been on quite the journey of learning to love from the time that I got him as a pup. Though I share much of that story in another article here (with this song that I wrote for it last year), with today’s new live video, I’d like to give an update to the story. As can be expected, Cedar and I are still learning and growing every day, and the lessons of our love continue to deepen in so many ways.
On the bright side, our love has never felt sweeter. Our affection and care for each other is palpable every day. He shows his love in so many ways: Just last night I had a good cry, and immediately he came with kisses and play. He waits for me every time I delay. He sits by my side as I watch the setting sun. He runs with me to make it fun. He comes with a snap or gesture of the hand. He gazes at me with adoration. I’m gettin’ watery just mentioning it.
Of course, I’m still learning to show him love as he so dearly shows it for me, and the process has continued to humble me. One of the biggest lessons lately has been learning to see the world through his eyes. For so long I interpreted any conflict between us as a power-struggle; if he didn’t do what I wanted him to do (right away), I thought he was just digging his heels-in, just to disobey. But, as it turns out, most of the time he just has something to say.
Unfortunately (for him) I had to learn this the hard way. One day we went out for a walk on a pretty hot day. But I brought water and snacks, and we took plenty of breaks in the shade. Still, about halfway through, he started dragging. I was surprised because I knew that he was in good enough shape for that kind of thing, so I just thought he was being lazy. Plus, I had an agenda: I wanted to get to the end of the trail that day. So, rather than turn back, I pressured him forward anyway.
But, when we got home that night, I was horrified to learn why he wanted to turn back: the pads of his paws had been worn by the rocky and rough path. He hardly wanted to walk to go potty. He tiptoed every time he was on his feet.
I was heartbroken. I didn’t know that could happen to dog’s pads! I thought they were impenetrable, like leather flats. So I learned more about dogs' paws, and how to heal them when they get worn raw. I cleaned ‘um up, and put on his booties. Thankfully, within just a few days, they were healing.
Still, the lesson went deep: how many times had I misinterpreted his messages of discomfort as his disobeying me? Clearly, it was me who needed to get better at listening.
Since then, in order to get better at understanding, I’ve learned some more about how dogs experience the world differently, including the fact that they see in different colors, and mostly experience life through their noses. Can you imagine what it would be like to navigate the world with scent?
In a book called An Immense World (by science-writer Ed Young), I’ve had my whole perspective blown-open by the realization that every species (and even every individual) has a unique set of senses (called an umwelt) that makes up their reality. The umwelt is made of two parts of the body: sensory organs and sensory receptors. Each species has different sensory organs with different receptors that determine how they perceive the world around them. As Young shares in his book, one of the reasons that dogs (for example), have great scent is that they have great noses! The slits to the side of their nostrils (for example), allow them to sniff things while they’re breathing without wafting away the smell every time they exhale. Indeed, every animal has special sensory-design details that serve their sensory superpower; some, like humans, have great sight, while others, like dogs, have great scent (or hearing, or feeling, or taste -fun fact: did you know that some insects can taste with their feet???). It’s like we’re all living on different planets based on what we smell, feel, hear, taste and see.
As such, communication is tricky. Not only do Cedar and I speak different languages, but we’re literally experiencing different realities. If I can’t experience the world like him, then there’s times when I simply can’t know how he’s affected by something. This requires my listening. With that in mind, I’ve changed the way that I communicate with him. If I want to give him a suggestion, invitation or command, I now make room for two-way communication.
I start small: I let him know what I want with a snap or a hand gesture. Usually he responds positively. But, sometimes, he doesn’t budge. So, I assess the situation: how important is it that he does what I’m asking? If it’s not that important, I don’t force him. But, if it is important, I escalate to an enthusiastic vocal command. Sometimes this promise of excitement is enough to motivate him.
But, sometimes, he still resists. If that’s the case, I consider: could there be a good reason for his resistance? Could there be discomfort or nervousness? If so, and if I can, I address that, and/or allow him to opt out. Still, there are times when I (as a human) understand a danger or a dynamic that he doesn’t understand, and that he needs to obey for his own safety. In that case, I have a very stern and steady voice (that says “This is not optional”) with very specific commands (like “leave it” or “come” or simply “no”). He knows that tone, and obeys relatively quickly. In all cases, every time that he does what I ask, I shower him with positivity.
Still, there are times when he still doesn’t listen -like when he hears a big noise, gets scared, and starts barking. In the past, I used to bark right back at him, but that didn’t work. I was scared that he was scared, so then he got more scared -and it was a mess. So, now, when he gets triggered, I respond more calmly. I quietly walk to him, tell him it’s ok, and tell him to come with me. Sometimes he whimpers, but I reassure him, and he listens to me. I’ve realized that his barking doesn’t mean that he’s being a bad boy; it’s his way of telling me that he’s scared1. So, how can I help him feel more secure?
All that being said, it’s not an exact science, and I don’t know if it’s the “right” way- Gosh! The world of dog training disagrees on lots of things! Sure, our communication is clearer and more consistent than it’s ever been, but it doesn’t always go exactly as planned.
The hardest part is when he shows aggression. Mostly it’s hard because it’s so unexpected. 99% of the time he’s a sweetheart to everyone around him. He loves people and other dogs, and cats, and all kinds of different species like horses and cows. He’s generally a happy-go-lucky dog who just wants to hang with his pals.
But, on the rare occasion (it’s only happened a handful of times in his whole 8 years of life), he’s gotten aggressive. It’s happened suddenly, and ended quickly, but it’s been really scary, especially because it’s often happened after a long time of it not happening, when we’ve all put our guard down thinking, “He can be trusted now.”
Such was the case a little over a month ago. For months I hadn’t allowed him to be with the other dogs or cats on the property. It was hard for him because he wanted to make friends so badly. But, I didn’t want to take any chances. That being said, eventually, with agreement from everyone, little by little, we did some introductions, and gradually built trust with him. I had an idea of the situations that needed to be avoided (like any kind of tight spaces) and it was all going beautifully; we were so happy to be together as a family. Cedar even gotta sniff the kitty! What a triumph! A bonafide butt-sniff?? Cedar’s wildest dreams were coming true, and we were all celebrating with him.
Then came the fall.
It had been a long day, and I had missed lunch. So, when dinner time came, I decided to feed myself before I fed the animals. I went out to the porch, and for the first time, let Cedar come with me (cuz that’s generally the other dog’s territory, so he doesn’t usually join me). But, since things had been going so well, I thought “Why not expand the space where we can be together as a family?”
It started out great: with one dog on one side, and Cedar on the other- there was no chance of them in conflict with each other. So, I sat there happily as I ate my dinner, feeling so proud that we’d made it to this point of being together.
Then it happened: the cat came up behind Cedar, and in an instant he snapped.
Thankfully, I was right there to catch it, and no one got hurt. Still, the trust was broken.
Though this had never happened with a cat before (so I was totally caught off-guard), immediately, I knew that I was the one who had made a mistake. What a silly thing for me to do! All the animals were hungry. What a bad idea for me to eat in front of them, and in a new situation, while they all had the stress of empty bellies! No one (not even me) makes great choices when our tummies are grumbling2, especially in stressful new places where we’re unsure of what’s happening3.
It’s scientific: dogs are no different than humans -who also make bad decisions when we’re stressed; it’s called an amygdala hijack4. This well-documented neurological phenomenon is basically a battle between two different parts of the brain5: the short-term survival in the face of an imminent threat (directed by the amygdala) vs. the long-term wellbeing that requires rational choice based on memory (directed by the prefrontal cortex). As one might expect, in this battle, the short-term wins; if we don’t survive this moment, then the long-term is irrelevant. As such, the amygdala overrides the rationale of the prefrontal cortex, often making choices that might make sense in the moment, but later bring a consequence.
In human psychology, this is why, in anger management, one of the main recommendations is to pause for a few seconds before responding6; if you can pause your amygdala before it acts, you give your prefrontal cortex a chance to catch up. But, this isn’t always possible, especially if the stress has been chronic78, or if the threat is really, really big and scary, and we’re tired, and we’re hungry, and/or we’re in pain9. In questions of peace, this is the part that humbles all of us who have bodies. None of us are beyond the possibility of getting so stressed that we do something that we regret. Dogs are no different10. They too have a prefrontal cortex that manages their impulse control, which also goes off-line when they’re scared, tired, or uncomfortable.
Still, even as I could recognize that I was the one to blame for that day with Cedar on the porch, the impact of his outburst remained; he would need to gain trust again, and it would likely be harder this time. I was devastated. I simply couldn’t take the chance of anyone getting hurt in the process of figuring out how to avoid this kind of conflict.
So, after some brainstorming with the other humans, we came up with a new strategy: a muzzle.
I hurt and ached just thinking of it. I’m generally not a fan of this kind of method. But I was at a loss. I’d already seen three different trainers, who, ultimately, helped me to see that his harsh behavior was a result of my own inconsistency. But since then, we’d worked hard on that and had become much more steady. So, I didn’t know what to do. No one trusted him enough to give him the chance without some kind of practical reassurance. So, the muzzle, at this point, felt like the best option. I did my research and found one that would serve its purpose without hurting Cedar: he could still sniff, breathe, and drink water. For my own sake, I also found one that was rainbow-sparkly, and sent for it immediately.
Not long after, the rainbow-muzzle arrived. It came right on time to bring me a new layer of meaning, as on that day, I had my own amygdala-hijack. I lost my own patience and snapped. Like Cedar, most of the time I’m just as sweet as ever. But, I’m still learning how to express my anger (which hasn’t always felt welcome or easy). While I know that repressing it isn’t the answer, I can also see that snapping often isn’t either. Still, I know what it feels like to watch my heart-rate rise into the out-of-control feeling that so often comes when I’m angry. Every time, it’s scary and humbling. Fight-or-flight mode is a terrible feeling.
So, I cried when I took the muzzle out of the box and put it on Cedar, as a symbol of my own challenges with anger. Of course, he was bothered by it at first. But, with the help of treats and affection to form positive associations, along with the reassurance that it’s a temporary condition, overtime we’ve warmed up to it. It’s not our ideal, and we don’t keep it on him for long, but at least everyone feels safe in the learning. Now, though he still doesn’t like it, at least his tail wags happily as he runs around with the dogs, and hangs out with the kitties. Even the vet has sent his mark of approval; apparently he, too, had a family situation that was supported by a muzzle.
Still, every time I put it on him, I’m humbled: We’ve all got a side that’s an animal, that can become unhinged and unable to handle. We’ve all got a side that can suddenly flip with misunderstanding and boundaries tipped. Indeed, we’re all vulnerable to the stressors of life, that come so naturally as we seek to survive.
All that being said, this song is for mercy, the loving eyes that hold on to each other as we fumble along the heart’s tender journey.
Read the original story behind the song here:
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https://www.earth.com/news/dog-communication-what-is-your-pet-trying-to-tell-you/
https://www.sciencefocus.com/news/being-hangry-is-real-and-theres-science-to-prove-it
https://www.mentalhealth.com/library/the-link-between-anger-and-stress#:~:text=Cognitive%20Processing%20and%20Perception&text=Under%20stress%2C%20our%20brain's%20prefrontal,to%20minor%20irritations%20or%20inconveniences.
https://psychcentral.com/health/amygdala-hijack#takeaway
https://www.verywellmind.com/what-happens-in-your-brain-when-youre-angry-8753372#:~:text=When%20you%20get%20angry%2C%20the,up%20and%20give%20its%20input.
https://harappa.education/harappa-diaries/what-is-amygdala-hijack/#:~:text=The%206%2DSecond%20Rule,taking%20command%20of%20your%20emotions.
https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/24705470211029254#:~:text=PFC%20neurons%20generate%20top%2Ddown,strategies%20for%20treatment%20and%20prevention.
https://www.simplypsychology.org/amygdala-hijack.html
https://www.apta.org/contentassets/d30c9ad60b2644279e60adbb23828ba5/aptahyperice_what-you-need-to-know-about-cumulative-stress-ah-ld.pdf
https://www.hallvet.com.au/2017/07/how-dogs-think-part-3/
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