Intelligent disobedience

(This post is part of the April A to Z blogging challenge.)

I need a dog who will do what I tell them... except when I'm wrong. Intelligent disobedience is the name for that "misbehavior." It takes a lot of training and a special dog to be "wrong" at the right time. It takes a lot of work to encourage pestering, even when you sound grumpy.

First, I have to teach my dog what the baseline is- automatic sits in heel, going forward on command, going to settle away from me, and many other cues. And then I train them for mobility. They learn to pull into a harness and not the collar, to lean into it when I wobble and keep the right pressure going as I walk along. Last, I train them to do the behaviors I want for alerts- pinning me in my seat, bumping and poking me with their nose, blocking their body across my knees to lock my knees and keep me upright.

Over time, as their bodies mature and can safely handle it, I drop the obedience routine in favor of the mobility routines, cue the alerts more and more. With time and practice, the dog starts to do the mobility by choice over the obedience behavior, and to alert most strongly, over the mobility behaviors. And in most of my life, that makes me happy (and keeps me safer than being out on my own).

Sometimes, I forget what my main goal is with these dogs. Duncan and I did competition obedience. Our first three day, three show weekend, we did two qualifying runs. On the third run I was having an unstable day because of my hip. He broke heel to swing over to my right side. He wouldn't sit. He ignored some commands. I was embarrassed. This was my full time public work service dog, screwing up a basic obedience routine. We did more complex things in higher distraction areas in a normal week, and he was blowing me off.

I was so disappointed in our disqualification. I packed up and left the show grounds in a funk.

Once I got my head out of my ass, I realized that he got perfect scores on every exercise away from me. It was the moving exercises where we lost points. And finally, finally, I realized what he'd been doing. He'd gone to my weak side, bumped me to keep me up, stayed standing so he was there to brace me if I needed it instead of sitting, and more. He had done his JOB. The job I trained him for. It blew our chances of a title at a single show weekend, but as we left the dog show, we went to the state fairgrounds and hung out with a friend.

He went into a barn he'd never seen, ignored costumed and harnessed horses, worked perfectly in an office he'd never been in, greeted a cop in uniform, kept me on my feet, and did what was needed- not what I asked. Sometimes, a dog who doesn't listen is the best thing I could have. Creating a dog who persists, even after I've given a countermand, is a very special thing.

(We did get the title- on a different weekend.)