If you go to any dog park in America, you're likely to see the same scenario: at least one dog running wild, while the owner calls from the sidelines, "Here, Skip, come on. Come, Skippy. Coooooome on. COME!" This typically goes on for at least a couple of minutes, and sometimes longer, while the dog happily cavorts. While most dog parks have a standing rule that dogs are only to be off-leash if their owners have good vocal control of them, that invariably doesn't always happen. So, how does your pooch stack up in this quest for "good vocal control"? Does he come when called? Sit with a vocal cue from you at a distance? Leave items you'd rather he not devour, even when you're not there to physically drag him from the tempting tidbit?
Yeah... Mine doesn't, either.
But, we're working on it. We've been working for what seems like ages, on perfecting recall. Today while out at our equivalent to a dog park here in Thomaston, a couple of local Labs - Duncan and Tessa, who are total sweethearts - were playing when I arrived with Killian and Adia. They were playing while I chatted with their owner, Sara, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted Nilo, a local man with some mental and physical challenges, who regularly walks the park. I called for Killian and Adia, who - magically - came to me immediately, and sat very nicely while I put their leashes back on. Sara called for Duncan and Tessa; Tessa came right over, but Duncan bounded toward Nilo. Dunc is a big marshmallow who loves everyone, but he did jump a couple of times on Nilo, and never did come to Sara, despite how frequently she called him.
There are no judgments here, because I've been in the same boat on plenty of occasions. But, I have seen that scene replayed so many times with fellow dog owners, who become irate and frustrated when their dogs will not come when called. When Killian and Adie race for me when given the cue, I'm viewed as some kind of mystic.
It's not really a secret: I make it worth their while to come to me. I make it fun. In Patricia McConnell's stellar book, "The Other End of the Leash," she has a section entitled "Calling Your Canine to Come." I recommend that to anyone working on recall. Here is a portion of what she writes:
"There's nothing I can tell you in one short chapter that will guarantee that your dog will come every time you call. I taught my own dogs to come when 'called' by starting when they weren't too distracted by something else... I called with a clear, consistent signal like 'Tulip, come!' while I clapped my hands, bent forward a bit in a play bow, turned my body sideways, and started to move away. The microsecond that my Great Pyrenees, Tulip, moved toward me, I started cooing 'Good girl! Good girl!' and ran away faster. That action lured her in my direction and at the same time rewarded her with one of her favorite activities - a good chase game."
Nowhere in that passage do you see McConnell say anything about standing rigidly in one spot and shouting "COME!" in a low, rigid voice - which is so often what we end up doing, particularly when it's most important for our dog to come to us. We freeze up in that moment when a car is coming, or a strange dog is headed our way, or our beloved Skippy gets a whiff of eau de skunk and takes chase. McConnell states that in behavioral studies, dogs are more likely to respond favorably to high tones and repeated sounds: whistles, for example, or clapping. She further notes in the aforementioned section that, "If you look at domestic dogs and wolves, there's nothing described in the literature that means 'come right now'... Besides, humans don't have a 'come' signal either. Do you throw your magazine down and leap across the room when your spouse calls your name? Haven't you ever said 'Just a minute' when someone tried to get your attention? Surely our dogs say that to us all the time. 'Just a minute, I think I smell squirrel!' 'Just a minute, I smell food. I'll be right with you...' Is there a reason that your dog should naturally be more accomplished at obedience than you are?"
McConnell's point isn't that it's impossible to teach dogs to come - simply that it's not a command that comes naturally, and thus does take some work. The next time you're out and your pup is ignoring your desperate pleas to come, try a new approach: Lighten up. Run away from him or her. Whistle and clap your hands. Make it seem like what you're doing is completely fascinating, compared to that boring dead thing your dog is just itching to roll in. And, of course, if you haven't already read "The Other End of the Leash," you should definitely pick up a copy. It will change not only how you see your dog, but revolutionize your success as a trainer.
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