Little Dog on a Big Adventure
We took Alys to my grandma's birthday party yesterday.
35 people, one big room, and just a 15 minute drive from home so we had the option to get her out of there as soon as she signals that it's too much.
I was pretty sceptical about the whole thing. Last week, a colleague had a little get together in our social room, and as soon as it was just about 8 to 9 people, Alys was starting to get very nervous and hectic and I had to take her back to my office.
But the room yesterday was a lot bigger, and apparently that made all the difference.
My parents and I were seated in a way that gave Alys a lot of free space right behind us.
She did have a few short bursts of nervousness, especially when a lot of people would get up all at once. But as soon as I lured her back to that big, more empty space and distracted her a little, she'd calm back down again quickly and relax. She even dozed quite a bit back there. And sometimes decided to start wandering around, curious little thing that she is.
She loved the part where everyone was seated with their backs to her, so she could walk up to them and carefully sniff at people without them even noticing.
She was also almost unusually open to strangers approaching her, sniffing and licking their hands, and only occasionally shying back when someone tried to pet her.
I heard two sentences over and over (the exact two I keep hearing everywhere):
1) She is such a well-behaved dog!
2) She has such a sweet face!
So, yes, overall she handled herself beautifully for the entire 5 hours until I decided that this was probably more than enough excitement for one day and took her home.
Except for that one pretty hairy situation that no one else even noticed:
One of my great-uncles approached her pretty early on, and considering her usual fear of strange men, she was very open. She walked right up to him, tail wagging slightly. He was rather surprised when I told him that she's usually very timid.
Later, she walked past him while he was sitting at the table. He extended his hand, she let him pet her, even nudging his hand for more when he stopped. Everything fine so far.
Later that night, she lay by the door, waiting for my Mom to come back from the bathroom. I waited with her because I don't like to leave her alone with strangers around.
My great-uncle walked by and started annoying her in a playful way. At least he meant is as playful. Alys somewhat went along with it for a minute or so, but I was already under the impression that she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She probably felt that it was a serious breach of etiquette if not a threat, a stranger moving towards her and back and grabbing her snout.
I should have told him to stop, but somehow I'm never able to get out a word in situations like that.
So I watched Alys carefully for any signs that she felt seriously offended. Which is how I caught the moment when her head went low, her weight to the front, body tense, and the corners of her mouth forward, mouth just the slightest bit open. It was probably a small gesture but it made all the alarms in my head go off.
So I slightly touched the back of her harness to get her attention and breathed a very quiet "no" in her direction. Thankfully, she reacted to it and relaxed a little.
My great uncle, whether it was just luck or he noticed something was off, gave her just one more pat on the snout and walked away, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
She was communicating a very serious "That's enough!" and I am grateful to Patricia McConnell and her books who helped me catch it.
When, right afterwards, Alys lay down again to continue waiting for my Mom, the waitress commented: "Oh look, now she's waiting for him to come back and play with her some more."
And that is why I don't take my eyes off my dog when she is around strangers. Not because I don't trust her, exactly, but because I don't trust people to be mindful of her insecurities and more subtle messages. Somehow, a lot of people seem to assume that every good dog will just accept everything anyone throws at her, just because they mean no harm.
I'm not entirely sure how to handle that yet, considering I can only train Alys, not every human we meet. And I don't want to deliberately get her into situations that make her feel threatened just so I can train her not to react like a dog.
35 people, one big room, and just a 15 minute drive from home so we had the option to get her out of there as soon as she signals that it's too much.
I was pretty sceptical about the whole thing. Last week, a colleague had a little get together in our social room, and as soon as it was just about 8 to 9 people, Alys was starting to get very nervous and hectic and I had to take her back to my office.
But the room yesterday was a lot bigger, and apparently that made all the difference.
My parents and I were seated in a way that gave Alys a lot of free space right behind us.
She did have a few short bursts of nervousness, especially when a lot of people would get up all at once. But as soon as I lured her back to that big, more empty space and distracted her a little, she'd calm back down again quickly and relax. She even dozed quite a bit back there. And sometimes decided to start wandering around, curious little thing that she is.
She loved the part where everyone was seated with their backs to her, so she could walk up to them and carefully sniff at people without them even noticing.
She was also almost unusually open to strangers approaching her, sniffing and licking their hands, and only occasionally shying back when someone tried to pet her.
I heard two sentences over and over (the exact two I keep hearing everywhere):
1) She is such a well-behaved dog!
2) She has such a sweet face!
So, yes, overall she handled herself beautifully for the entire 5 hours until I decided that this was probably more than enough excitement for one day and took her home.
Except for that one pretty hairy situation that no one else even noticed:
One of my great-uncles approached her pretty early on, and considering her usual fear of strange men, she was very open. She walked right up to him, tail wagging slightly. He was rather surprised when I told him that she's usually very timid.
Later, she walked past him while he was sitting at the table. He extended his hand, she let him pet her, even nudging his hand for more when he stopped. Everything fine so far.
Later that night, she lay by the door, waiting for my Mom to come back from the bathroom. I waited with her because I don't like to leave her alone with strangers around.
My great-uncle walked by and started annoying her in a playful way. At least he meant is as playful. Alys somewhat went along with it for a minute or so, but I was already under the impression that she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She probably felt that it was a serious breach of etiquette if not a threat, a stranger moving towards her and back and grabbing her snout.
I should have told him to stop, but somehow I'm never able to get out a word in situations like that.
So I watched Alys carefully for any signs that she felt seriously offended. Which is how I caught the moment when her head went low, her weight to the front, body tense, and the corners of her mouth forward, mouth just the slightest bit open. It was probably a small gesture but it made all the alarms in my head go off.
So I slightly touched the back of her harness to get her attention and breathed a very quiet "no" in her direction. Thankfully, she reacted to it and relaxed a little.
My great uncle, whether it was just luck or he noticed something was off, gave her just one more pat on the snout and walked away, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
She was communicating a very serious "That's enough!" and I am grateful to Patricia McConnell and her books who helped me catch it.
When, right afterwards, Alys lay down again to continue waiting for my Mom, the waitress commented: "Oh look, now she's waiting for him to come back and play with her some more."
And that is why I don't take my eyes off my dog when she is around strangers. Not because I don't trust her, exactly, but because I don't trust people to be mindful of her insecurities and more subtle messages. Somehow, a lot of people seem to assume that every good dog will just accept everything anyone throws at her, just because they mean no harm.
I'm not entirely sure how to handle that yet, considering I can only train Alys, not every human we meet. And I don't want to deliberately get her into situations that make her feel threatened just so I can train her not to react like a dog.