Dogs Are Problem Solvers — Are We?

October 1, 2018

By Connie Cleveland

 

I travel throughout North America to teach people about dogs and how they learn. The first statement I make in a workshop is that dogs have the ability to solve problems. If a dog finds himself in a situation that he does not like, he will work to change it. For example, a dog outside who wants to come in might scratch the door. If no response is forthcoming, he might bark. If you let him in when he barks, he learned barking solves that problem.

I have watched dogs solve some difficult problems. I have seen dogs confined to a fenced area figure out how to use their nose to lift the latch on the gate. I know a dog that turns on the water in the tub to get himself a drink (sadly, he does not turn it off). I’ve seen dogs move furniture to uncover a desired object, or use that same piece of furniture as a step stool to climb to a coveted item. When the dog desires a situation to change, he doesn’t quit. He is unbelievably persistent.

All too often, a client trying to change a dog’s difficult behavior will bemoan, “I’ve tried everything.”

“Everything?”

You need to persist. You haven’t thought of the correct solution yet. Dogs solve problems with persistence, and so can we.

Below are four problem solving principles we can use in our work and personal lives.

When you think you’ve found a “solution,” consider if there might be an improved version that brings a slightly better outcome. There is often room for improvement even in our first-choice solutions.

Growling, snapping or lunging are all behaviors that dogs use to force a person or another dog to offer a perceived problem-solving behavior. A dog growls over his food-bowl, and we step back. He has learned that growling will cause the human to step away from his bowl. Good (for him, not for you)!

Similarly, we will often let someone’s grouchiness manipulate us, even when a person’s dark mood is not consciously meant to manipulate or bully.

A friend shared with me that it was common for her husband to arrive home from work in a foul mood — not a surprise as often, and unfortunately, work challenges us and leaves us feeling ineffective and helpless. My friend would quickly and quietly get dinner ready, and after sharing a meal in silence, hope that he would relax and that his mood would improve. One day she told me, “It occurred to me that I was intimidated by his grouchiness and actually encouraging him to maintain his mood through dinner. The next evening, I cheerfully welcomed him home and suggested that he sit and relax and when he was feeling better, we could fix dinner together.”  Amazingly, I started feeling better for not being intimidated by his mood, and he started arriving home much more cheerfully!”

She tweaked her first-choice solution. Yes, they ate a meal together. And yes, she acknowledged his initial moodiness and gave some space for him to recover. But then, she offered some “together time” — both of them working as a team to create and enjoy a meal. She included a transition time, and an active domestic project in her tweaked solution.

Not a bad change — though even her first-choice solution is sometimes acceptable. “I”ll make dinner quietly” can sometimes allow your mind to come up with an improved option weeks later.

Sometimes refusing to cooperate is used as a solution to a problem.

Saying “no” to uncooperativeness persistently and forcefully works well.

As an inexperienced dog trainer, I was instructed to never use the word, “no” because it was not possible to say no without sounding angry. It was probably 10 years before I realized that I certainly could say “no” without sounding angry. If you asked if I wanted liver for dinner tonight, I’d say “no, thanks anyway.”

Some dogs discover that refusing to cooperate is effective. One woman told me, “My dog will walk ½ way around the block, and then he stops. He won’t take another step.”

“What do you do?” I asked.

“I go home and get the wheelbarrow, and then return to load him into it, and push him home.”

I tried to picture what kind of dog patiently waited for his chariot to arrive. “Just say NO!” was definitely solving that dog’s problem. All too often, a forceful “NO” makes us recoil, and give in to the desires of the speaker.

Quite differently, I have memories of my mother responding to an uncooperative toddler by offering the child a choice such as “Are you going to get in the car seat or shall I put you in the car seat?” In response to the child’s loud and vehement refusal, she calmly picked up and buckled the child in the car seat. This is not dissimilar to how we respond to dogs that refuse to get in the car or bathtub. Gently, but firmly, putting the dog in the desired location explains that refusing to cooperate is not a solution to the problem.

When the DTW staff and I engage in problem solving about a particular challenge, there are often varying opinions about how we might accomplish a task. When a decision is reached, one staff member may be less pleased with the chosen solution than the others. As the leader, I cannot allow blatant uncooperativeness. In fact, I cannot allow cooperativeness but coupled with a surely or negative attitude. If that occurs, I pull that staff member aside and say “No, you cannot continue to remind the rest of us that you think we are approaching this problem incorrectly. You must get on board with the majority, and try to cooperate, or you must leave.” A ship cannot go forward dragging an anchor, and one uncooperative participant will stop all forward motion.

Saying “no” to uncooperativeness is often both necessary and reasonable.

At the very least, ask for a little bit of charm.

It’s hard to ignore the adorable dog with the cocked head or waving paw that seems to say, “I’m so cute! How can you resist me?!” Acting charming can solve a lot of problems. In fact, I remember asking a friend whether or not her 6-year-old could have the popsicle he had requested and she replied, “Only if he said ‘Please.’ I try to reward charming!”

There’s no doubt that there is a significant difference between a surly person who’s giving you problems in the workplace — and a charming one. Charm involves, after all, respect: respect for the individual, respect for authority, respect for society’s rules and structures. A person who knows how to offer charm has taken the trouble to learn about the individual and the context enough to “be pleasing.” A person who learns how to use rules-for-behavior effectively, even when he or she may be resisting the will of a group or an individual, has power indeed.

The charming dog — or human — may not always win a battle. But better to offer a waving and appealing paw then a curled lip, narrowed eyes, and a growl. Even if we have to say no, or resist the charmer, we are more likely to do so with a smile. And the charmer will have another chance, no doubt, at making an appeal that works.

Sometimes remaining silent is the best solution.

I am so completely indoctrinated in problem solving that my staff knows to come to me with both the problem and the solution. If they don’t offer a solution, they know to expect my refrain that “A bad plan is better than no plan!”

However, I do work hard to resist the urge to offer possible solutions to every struggle, not only in my business, but also to my family and friends.

A friend commented that becoming a parent of adult children was so very difficult for her.

“When they call to talk about their lives, I must remember, it is not my job to agree or disagree. I don’t need to fix anything. All I need to do is listen.”

A few years ago I rehomed a retired competition dog that had suffered a career ending injury. Instead of a life that included running, jumping, swimming and retrieving, he would be a service dog for a new owner suffering from a head injury. It was with awe that I watched his transformation. He had a problem to solve. His new job, he learned, was to be a comforter, sometimes to accompany his owner, sometimes to sit quietly as a constant companion.

Dogs are problem solvers. I am a problem solver. Without a doubt, the most difficult problems for me are those that do not require my solution, those occasions when I need not agree or disagree…when all I need to do is sit quietly and listen.

 

Connie Cleveland is a nationally-recognized dog trainer recognized for her work with family dogs and dogs involved in obedience and field trial competitions, as well as dogs exhibiting challenging behavioral problems. She is also the owner of the Dog Trainers Workshop, a spacious training and boarding facility for dog lovers featuring an indoor training facility, an outdoor agility ring, and a boarding kennel set on 14 acres with a pond and walking trail. Cleveland’s eleven obedience trial championship dogs include her dog Eli, the first Golden Retriever to earn both field and obedience championships, and her dog Ezra, the only Labrador to have earned an obedience trial championship, a field championship, and an amateur field championship. To learn more about Dog Trainers Workshop or to reach Connie, see https://www.dogtrainersworkshop.com or https://www.facebook.com/DogTrainersWorkshop.