Fear, Part 3 by Dr. Miles Arakaki
In the summer of 2008, I was at a Forward Operating Base in the middle of the Helmand province
of Afghanistan. After checking on a small population of camp horses, losing 15 pounds to a bout of dysentery (food poisoning – the cookhouse was next to the horse corral), and taking a tracking class,
I found myself stranded for 3 weeks. The weekly ring flights to the base kept getting cancelled,
and the whole thing turned into Gilligan’s Island. Lounging around one day, I was approached
by one of the Military Working Dog Handlers to examine his animal. Lacy was a 3-year-old
female Flat-coated Retriever trained as an off-leash explosive detection dog. During her
first firefight, she panicked, jumped off the truck, and took off. Her Handler, Chubs, had
to run to catch her, unfortunately in the direction of oncoming fire. Ever since then, she refused
to work.
A physical exam revealed no medical abnormalities. Lacey appeared perfectly healthy. Suspecting a behavioral problem, I asked Chubs to take her out on a training exercise and he began to collect his kit. I immediately noticed a change in body language from the dog. As he put on his body armor, helmet, and grabbed his weapon, Lacey began to cower in the corner of the room; her tailed tucked between her legs, her head and chest hunched low, a sad look in her eyes. Chubs sighed and gave me a look; “see, this is how it starts.” Lacey had begun to associate gear prep with going outside the wire and the negative experience of the firefight. I also wondered if young handler’s body language and behavior was contributing to the problem.
Ever since that traumatic episode, Chubs had lost confidence in Lacey. Her actions had forced him into a bad situation, and with her subsequent problems, they were no longer contributing to the success of the unit. Every new mission was an opportunity for her to fail, and make her handler look bad in the eyes of his peers. Chubs was frustrated, and he began to handle Lacy more aggressively. This just added more anxiety and ratchetted up the fear in the dog when working. I suggested she be retrained by the senior trainer at Bagram, and as I walked out of the hootch, another handler, Rod, was walking his explosives dog, a golden retriever named Jak. Jak and Rod were the total opposite of what I just examined. Rod was a senior sergeant, experienced, relaxed and confident; Jak was the typical happy-go-lucky Golden, enjoying being outside in the sun.
Dogs do not understand our spoken language, but they do read body language. Juliane Kaminski of the University of Portsmouth, UK, found changes in dog’s facial expressions when people were looking at them. There is also some evidence that they can smell emotions. Biagio D’Anellio, of the University of Naples, collected sweat samples of people in fearful, happy, or neutral emotional states. When presented to their pets, the researcher noted behavioral differences with the fear samples. Scientists at the Stony Brook University in New York, tested fear sweat samples on human subjects, and noted increased activity in the amygdala and hypothalamus (sections associated with fear) of their brains.
The studies support what experienced dog handlers and trainers have suspected for a long time; that human behavior and emotions influences the dog’s, and affects performance. A handler begins a training plan, but is inconsistent in the execution. The dog is confused by the inconsistencies or the inadvertent signals given off through body language. The confusion has a negative impact on the dog’s performance, and the handler begins to get frustrated. A bad training plan or improper implementation leads to lack of progress, and the handler’s frustration turns to anger. The dog reads the anger, and his confusion turns to anxiety. As the mess festers, the handler’s corrections become harsher, and the dog’s anxiety turns to fear. At this point, the dog is broken, and fear is an emotion that is very difficult if not impossible to extinguish.
Controlling a dog is about controlling oneself. Dog control and self-control are not mutually exclusive. Even positive emotion can cause confusion. Joyfully stimulating a dog does not necessarily lead to positive performance – it may only overexcite distracting the dog away from desired behavior (see Yerkes-Dodson Law). Coddling a dog in a stressful situation does not necessarily calm the dog. The dog misreads the intention of his owner, and his anxiety is only fueled by the excess stimulation in response to the stressor. The best way to minimize confusion during training is to precisely reinforce desired behaviors, precisely correct unwanted behaviors, and maintain emotional neutrality all other times. Consistent precision is the key. Reinforcement or correction a second late is just too late. Dog training is partly training the dog, and partly training the handler in developing that precision.
Back at Bagram Airbase, I saw another dog with performance deficits. Eve was a small Dutch Shepherd who spent most of her time on the couch in the kennel office. I asked the senior trainer what her story was. Basically, she didn’t want to work anymore, but her handler was displaying severe dysfunctional PTS symptoms. They were basically waiting on medical to clear his return stateside, and Eve would likely be going home also. It all started to connect in my head, sitting with her on the couch watching pirated DVD’s purchased from the local bazaar.
Chubs and Lacey were transferred to another camp with the hopes of getting a fresh start in a new environment. For the most part, they muddled through the rest of the deployment, and more importantly, made it home in one piece. The last I saw of Jak was on the tarmac of Bagram in the middle of the night a few weeks later. Rod had been killed in a firefight, and Jak was being sent home. A typical happy Golden, it was impossible to tell what he had been through the day before as I gave him a quick exam, and filled out his travel certificate for his surrogate handler. There was a somber mood amongst the Soldiers on pad has we watched his wagging tail up the back ramp of the C-17 transport plane bound for Germany.
of Afghanistan. After checking on a small population of camp horses, losing 15 pounds to a bout of dysentery (food poisoning – the cookhouse was next to the horse corral), and taking a tracking class,
I found myself stranded for 3 weeks. The weekly ring flights to the base kept getting cancelled,
and the whole thing turned into Gilligan’s Island. Lounging around one day, I was approached
by one of the Military Working Dog Handlers to examine his animal. Lacy was a 3-year-old
female Flat-coated Retriever trained as an off-leash explosive detection dog. During her
first firefight, she panicked, jumped off the truck, and took off. Her Handler, Chubs, had
to run to catch her, unfortunately in the direction of oncoming fire. Ever since then, she refused
to work.
A physical exam revealed no medical abnormalities. Lacey appeared perfectly healthy. Suspecting a behavioral problem, I asked Chubs to take her out on a training exercise and he began to collect his kit. I immediately noticed a change in body language from the dog. As he put on his body armor, helmet, and grabbed his weapon, Lacey began to cower in the corner of the room; her tailed tucked between her legs, her head and chest hunched low, a sad look in her eyes. Chubs sighed and gave me a look; “see, this is how it starts.” Lacey had begun to associate gear prep with going outside the wire and the negative experience of the firefight. I also wondered if young handler’s body language and behavior was contributing to the problem.
Ever since that traumatic episode, Chubs had lost confidence in Lacey. Her actions had forced him into a bad situation, and with her subsequent problems, they were no longer contributing to the success of the unit. Every new mission was an opportunity for her to fail, and make her handler look bad in the eyes of his peers. Chubs was frustrated, and he began to handle Lacy more aggressively. This just added more anxiety and ratchetted up the fear in the dog when working. I suggested she be retrained by the senior trainer at Bagram, and as I walked out of the hootch, another handler, Rod, was walking his explosives dog, a golden retriever named Jak. Jak and Rod were the total opposite of what I just examined. Rod was a senior sergeant, experienced, relaxed and confident; Jak was the typical happy-go-lucky Golden, enjoying being outside in the sun.
Dogs do not understand our spoken language, but they do read body language. Juliane Kaminski of the University of Portsmouth, UK, found changes in dog’s facial expressions when people were looking at them. There is also some evidence that they can smell emotions. Biagio D’Anellio, of the University of Naples, collected sweat samples of people in fearful, happy, or neutral emotional states. When presented to their pets, the researcher noted behavioral differences with the fear samples. Scientists at the Stony Brook University in New York, tested fear sweat samples on human subjects, and noted increased activity in the amygdala and hypothalamus (sections associated with fear) of their brains.
The studies support what experienced dog handlers and trainers have suspected for a long time; that human behavior and emotions influences the dog’s, and affects performance. A handler begins a training plan, but is inconsistent in the execution. The dog is confused by the inconsistencies or the inadvertent signals given off through body language. The confusion has a negative impact on the dog’s performance, and the handler begins to get frustrated. A bad training plan or improper implementation leads to lack of progress, and the handler’s frustration turns to anger. The dog reads the anger, and his confusion turns to anxiety. As the mess festers, the handler’s corrections become harsher, and the dog’s anxiety turns to fear. At this point, the dog is broken, and fear is an emotion that is very difficult if not impossible to extinguish.
Controlling a dog is about controlling oneself. Dog control and self-control are not mutually exclusive. Even positive emotion can cause confusion. Joyfully stimulating a dog does not necessarily lead to positive performance – it may only overexcite distracting the dog away from desired behavior (see Yerkes-Dodson Law). Coddling a dog in a stressful situation does not necessarily calm the dog. The dog misreads the intention of his owner, and his anxiety is only fueled by the excess stimulation in response to the stressor. The best way to minimize confusion during training is to precisely reinforce desired behaviors, precisely correct unwanted behaviors, and maintain emotional neutrality all other times. Consistent precision is the key. Reinforcement or correction a second late is just too late. Dog training is partly training the dog, and partly training the handler in developing that precision.
Back at Bagram Airbase, I saw another dog with performance deficits. Eve was a small Dutch Shepherd who spent most of her time on the couch in the kennel office. I asked the senior trainer what her story was. Basically, she didn’t want to work anymore, but her handler was displaying severe dysfunctional PTS symptoms. They were basically waiting on medical to clear his return stateside, and Eve would likely be going home also. It all started to connect in my head, sitting with her on the couch watching pirated DVD’s purchased from the local bazaar.
Chubs and Lacey were transferred to another camp with the hopes of getting a fresh start in a new environment. For the most part, they muddled through the rest of the deployment, and more importantly, made it home in one piece. The last I saw of Jak was on the tarmac of Bagram in the middle of the night a few weeks later. Rod had been killed in a firefight, and Jak was being sent home. A typical happy Golden, it was impossible to tell what he had been through the day before as I gave him a quick exam, and filled out his travel certificate for his surrogate handler. There was a somber mood amongst the Soldiers on pad has we watched his wagging tail up the back ramp of the C-17 transport plane bound for Germany.