Schutzhund: Theory and Training Methods

A few years ago, while discussing the nature of control with a fellow trainer, we heard a story that illustrates the central problem of field work.

“I once had a wonderful young dog that bit like a lion. One day, very proudly, I showed him to an old-time German dog trainer, and asked this man if my youngster was not truly a good dog. The old man said, ‘Show him to me again when he has three years and a clean bark and a clean out and still he bites like that, and then I will say that he is a good dog.’”

What the old man meant was simply this: A dog that bites with fire and bravery is not so rare. What is rare is an animal that has the strength to be strongly controlled by its handler, and still bite with fire and bravery.

Our German friend put his finger on an idea that we have since learned to be indisputably true. The acid test of a biting dog’s quality comes when, for the first time, it is forced to restrain itself during agitation. Many animals simply cannot support being controlled and corrected in bite work instead of being constantly encouraged. When the only load on their nerves comes from the person in front of them, they shine. But when pressure comes from behind, from their handlers (and some very hard-looking dogs can be extraordinarily sensitive to pressure from this direction), they crumble. Where before they were sure under the stick, now they flinch. Where before they invariably bit with full mouths, now they chew and back off, rolling their eyes behind them and worrying about the out that they know is coming.

It seems that every generation of working dog trainers has an older generation behind it that is fond of telling how much harder the dogs of the old days were. We have heard these stories again and again. However, we are inclined to believe them, because we have seen how dogs were trained in the old days. They had to be hard.

For example, the old-time method of teaching the hold and bark involved standing a decoy thirty-one feet away, sending the dog at him and then correcting the animal very sharply with a long line when it hit thirty feet, six inches. This procedure is roughly analogous to knocking down in one instant a house that has been painstakingly constructed over a period of many months. All the dog’s life up to this moment, its trainers have urged it on in bite work, stoked the flames of its desire, never asking it to hold one bit of itself back. Now, in one instant, they change the rules, with rather unpleasant consequences for the animal.

However, this crude sort of method does work, if only in the sense that we can use it to easily teach the typical dog not to bite a person who is standing still. The shock and confusion produced by the unprecedented correction inhibit the animal, damping its excitement. The dog’s desire to bite brings it pain, so it powers down, resorting to other behavior. Because it feels unsure, it begins to bark, and the decoy rewards it for barking by moving and inducing the animal to bite. The lesson for the dog is clear: Cope with control and corrections by calming down, by stopping the flow of energy. Wait until conditions change, until control lifts, and then come into drive again.

We call this training for control by inhibition. It yields dogs that are one kind of animal when they are free to bite, and another, much lesser animal when they are restrained by control.

It is not difficult to train a dog this way. One needs only persistence and a heavy hand—and a hard dog. We can even produce a good dog by training with inhibition. But the difference between a good dog and a great dog is that a great dog is as calm, confident, aggressive and powerful when under control as when actually biting.

When a great dog is forbidden to bite, when commanded to “Out!” its drive does not diminish. It does not suddenly become less dog than it was a moment before. Instead, it energizes a new behavior, carrying all its energy intact as it outs and begins to bark powerfully.

We call this training for control by activation, and it depends upon making the animal understand perfectly what it is that it must do in order to get what it wants from us.

Nothing weakens the spirit like confusion, uncertainty and passive obedience to compulsion. The method of training for control by activation that we present here is designed to prevent both confusion and stress for the dog. By offering it clear, comprehensible alternatives that are both gratifying for it and also the result we desire, we avoid the necessity of using harsh compulsion to control the dog in bite work.

GOAL 1: The dog will hold and bark in front of a motionless agitator.

In Schutzhund bite work, there are really only four major skills that the dog must master: the hold and bark, the out, obedience on the protection field and the blind search. Of these four, the hold and bark and the out are by far the most important. Furthermore, the out is no more than an elaboration on the hold and bark—it follows quite naturally.

Therefore, we believe that the hold and bark is the fundamental concept of control in Schutzhund protection, and we teach it thoroughly before introducing any of the other skills.

How we teach the hold and bark is absolutely vital, because this exercise will constitute the dog’s first encounter with the issue of control. If the dog learns to channel its energy, to switch gears instantly from one behavior to another, carrying its drive intact, then it will gain the primary ability needed for championship-level protection. If, on the other hand, we inhibit the animal in order to control it, then we will sacrifice something in it that we may never regain.

In drive work, we have already taught the dog that it must bark in order to bite and that its bark has the power to move the decoy, to animate him so that he becomes prey. However, during drive work the animal was always restrained from biting by the leather collar, and barking was inseparably coupled to lunging and fighting the leash. Our problem now is how to uncouple barking from lunging, so that the dog chooses to hold and bark instead of biting when there is no leather collar holding it back.

For this we need a third person. In bite work there is so much to be done all at once and so quickly that the handler needs an assistant who handles the lines for him. The assistant makes corrections, and does much of the physical work of restraining the animal, leaving the handler free to give commands and to praise and support his dog. From now on, when we refer to an assistant, we speak of someone who helps the handler by taking over some of the duties of controlling the dog.

Important Concepts for Meeting the Goal

1. Uncoupling barking from lunging

2. Correcting “dirty” bites

3. Keeping the dog “clean” when sending it from a distance

4. Keeping the dog “clean” when rounding the blind

5. Keeping the dog “clean” off leash

6. Proofing the hold and bark

The assistant holds the dog on two leashes—one connected to an agitation collar, the other running to a correction collar.

As in all bite work up to this point, the dog is not under any obedience command and it is wild with excitement. The handler stands near and encourages the dog to bite the decoy, commanding “Get him!” The assistant restrains the animal with the wide leather agitation collar, letting the correction leash hang loose.

The exercise begins, as do all control exercises, with an excitation phase. Rather than soothe or calm the dog, we stimulate it. As if it were a turbine, we try to give the animal momentum by running it up as high as it will go. The helper therefore agitates the dog vigorously, moving in close to it and letting it try for the sleeve several times. After five or ten seconds of excitation, the agitator steps back a pace and “freezes.” An instant later, two things happen simultaneously.

• the handler commands his dog to “Search!”

• the assistant drops slack into the agitation collar leash and, before the dog can lunge forward and bite, checks it sharply with the correction collar

Each time the animal surges forward it is met with a jerk just strong enough to stop it. The assistant’s objective is to get the dog to stop lunging, stand back off the collar so that the leashes hang slack and bark. Furthermore, he must do this while inhibiting the dog as little as possible.

The dog is often very persistent about lunging and attempting to bite. As the animal fights the collar and the agitator stands still and the seconds tick by, the turbine winds down. As the animal calms, it gradually ceases lunging. Unfortunately, it often ceases barking as well, and only stares fixedly at the decoy.

It is the agitator’s job, when he sees this happening, to jump away (the dog loses its quarry when it does not bark!) and restimulate the dog. As he does so, two more events occur simultaneously:

• the handler exhorts the dog excitedly, commanding it again to “Get him!”

• the assistant snaps the slack out of the agitation collar leash, bringing it tight, and drops slack into the correction collar leash, so that the dog is free to lunge into the leather collar in pursuit of the helper

After five to ten more seconds of excitation, the decoy freezes again, the handler commands the restimulated dog to “Search!” and the assistant changes over once more to the correction collar.

The perceptive reader will see that there are two phases to the procedure: a drive phase, in which the dog is free to strive against the collar, to bite the agitator if it can; and a control phase, in which the dog cannot strive, and must restrain itself instead.

We cycle repeatedly from one to the other, using the drive phase to stimulate the animal and then dropping it unexpectedly into the control phase, where it has nothing to do with its energy but bark. The more suddenly we make this conversion, the more drive the dog will carry into the control phase and express by barking.

If, after two or three cycles, we are not successful in uncoupling barking from lunging at the agitator—so that the dog does not do the former without the latter, but simply wears itself down into panting silence instead—then the decoy runs away, agitating furiously, and hides. Loss of the opportunity to bite will frustrate the animal and make it more likely to hold and bark next time.

Eventually when, due to chance or to frustration and perplexity on the dog’s part, it finds the solution to the puzzle by rocking back off the collar and ripping out a bark or two, we reward it instantly. The agitator leaps backward, yelling, and the assistant drops the leashes so that the dog can surge forward and bite. The handler comes up and praises his dog extravagantly, patting and encouraging it while it bites.

Then, before the dog has enough of biting, the agitator slips the sleeve, the handler breaks the dog loose from it, the assistant takes up his lines and the cycle is quickly repeated while the memory of what it did to achieve gratification is still fresh in the dog’s mind.

With this system we present to the dog some basic rules that will hold true throughout training. We also present it with a problem and let it learn actively and powerfully by waiting until it stumbles onto the solution itself. The sequence goes like this:

However:

If the procedure is executed perfectly, the dog will never have the chance to take a dirty bite when the agitator is standing still. The animal will attain its goal and relieve its frustration only by channeling to barking and thereby winning the opportunity to bite. As a result, it will soon lock in to the hold and bark. This is the way that dogs become clean for life in the blind.

However, in dog training very little works perfectly, and when we least expect it, an aroused dog will steal six extra inches of slack from us and grab the sleeve. What do we do?

The traditional method is to punish, to take vengeance, to physically correct so severely that the animal never forgets the retribution and pain associated with a dirty bite. The problem is that this treatment will inhibit the low- to medium-powerful dog, and it will enrage the very powerful dog, so that it bites twice as hard next time around.

There is another way. The object is not to take vengeance upon the animal when it makes a mistake; the object is to cheat it of its aim unless it does the job our way. What is the dog’s aim? Not just to bite, but to spend drive, to make combat. That takes two. In order for a bite to be gratifying, the decoy has to fight back.

Accordingly, if the dog takes a dirty bite, the decoy simply stands absolutely still. The handler steps up, tells the dog quietly “No!” and breaks it off the sleeve very quickly. The exercise is immediately repeated. There is no yelling, no emotion, no excitement. The error is “glossed over” as though it never happened. The excitement and emotion will come next time when the dog does a fine hold and bark. The decoy will give it a wonderful, vigorous fight for the sleeve, and the handler will exclaim his pleasure and praise of the dog.

Thus far, the dog has remained stationary and the decoy has come to it for the hold and bark. Now we are ready for the animal to advance and the agitator to stand still. We must be prudent because, when the dog takes a run at a person, it has not only physical momentum but psychological momentum as well, and is very likely to forget itself and bite.

Therefore, in the beginning, the assistant carefully walks the dog up to the decoy on the leather collar, and then checks the animal with the correction command if necessary. As the dog becomes more and more reliable, the assistant will move it faster and faster and over progressively longer distances in order to reach the agitator, until he is finally running as fast as he can in his efforts to keep up with the dog.

During this procedure, the handler should vary his position about the field, giving his commands from different distances and directions. If the dog is absolutely clean, so that it stops short and begins to bark all on its own with no correction or cue necessary, then we are ready for the next step.

We must now let the dog run free to the decoy—without the assistant at its heels. We keep the animal clean by sending it on a long line.

Beforehand, the assistant measures the line out on the ground and marks the spots where he will stand and where the decoy will stand. This way he knows just how much line he has to work with, and he can check the animal at exactly the right moment, if necessary. However, if its schooling is proceeding correctly, the dog is already much bound by habit, and the line should be almost superfluous.

If it is necessary to correct the animal again and again with the line, then the dog is not yet ready to progress to this stage of training.

So far, we have performed all our work on the hold and bark in the open field. We have not yet tried the exercise in a blind. The blinds can present us with two difficulties:

• Some animals are a little shy of the blind, so that they are not quite as powerful when they are required to enter this more enclosed space in order to bark. This is normally easily remedied with just a bit of work in and around the blinds.

• In trial, the dog approaches the blind from behind. When it rounds the comer, it sometimes finds itself at a distance of less than two feet from a person that it has never seen before who is wearing a sleeve. The result of this sudden, almost startling encounter is often a dirty bite and the resulting penalty by the judge.

The solution is simple. Consider the blind to be the center of a clock face, with the opening directly at 12:00. On a long line, we send the dog for a series of holds and barks. The first is from 12:00, where the dog can clearly see the decoy. The next is from about 3:00, where the animal’s vision of the decoy is partially obscured. The next is from 4:00, where it cannot see the decoy at all, and so on. However, the assistant never moves farther than 3:00. He always remains where he can see the opening of the blind and what happens there when the dog arrives, so that he is ready to correct with the long line if the animal nips or bites.

In this way we can gradually accustom the dog to staying clean during an increasingly sudden encounter with the decoy when it rounds the blind.

The issue is not completely settled yet, because the dog is by now very conscious of the role the nearby assistant (and the correction collar, and the long line hanging from it) plays in controlling it. We cannot be sure that the dog is absolutely clean rounding the blind until we can send it fifty or seventy-five yards with nothing around its neck but a chain collar, and no one within 100 feet of the blind.

But this procedure could be very risky. If the animal bites, it will obtain a great deal of gratification before we can get to it and stop it. In addition, and far worse, the dog will learn something about the limitations of its trainers: when we can control it and when we cannot.

The first time that the animal runs free to a blind, we must be certain of two things: (1) that the dog is near certain to do just what we want it to, and (2) that, in the event it does not do so, we can surprise it with a totally unanticipated correction unrelated to the collar, long line or the assistant.

The solution is, again, simple, and one of the most elegant techniques that we have discovered in Schutzhund training, because it arises from such a sharp insight into what the dog can and cannot do with its mind.

The handler brings the dog onto the field wearing all the training paraphernalia—leather collar, correction collar and the long line—and then he makes a great show of removing all this equipment and throwing it aside, one piece at a time, as if to say to the dog, “Here, do what you want. Now I am helpless to stop you!”

The handler gives the dog, wearing only a chain collar, to the assistant. Suddenly the decoy appears and, from close range, begins to agitate the animal furiously, working it into a frenzy. Meanwhile, the handler sprints for the distant blind and hides in it. A moment later, the decoy follows him, still agitating, and piles into the blind on top of the handler, standing in front of him and hiding him from sight.

Because the dog is only a dog, and distinctly limited in terms of the kind of mental transformations it can make in space and time, it will always be surprised to find its handler in the blind with the decoy.

If the dog rounds the blind, beside itself with frustration, sees the agitator so temptingly close and bites, its handler will step out and grab it. The handler shouts “No!” while breaking the surprised animal off the sleeve and drags it back extremely brusquely, as though the dog were no more than a bag of cement, and gives it once more to the assistant. Note that there will be no abuse, anger or vengeance taken upon the dog. Then the exercise is immediately repeated.

About the time that we suspect that the dog has our stratagem figured out, we switch. This time the handler releases the dog, which, realizing that it is leaving its handler behind it in the open field, may be tempted to bite, only to find the assistant hiding in the blind and ready to correct it.

The single most frequent complaint that we hear at Schutzhund trials is: “But my dog has never done that before!” And, invariably, it has never committed that particular error before. But it picked the day of competition to experiment for the first time with some utterly unexpected mistake, such as charging straight at the judge when commanded to “Search!” or some other appalling error.

These humbling occurrences are a reflection of the strange chemistry of the trial field. For, on trial day, something is different. Even though the exercises are the same—and the agitator, the blinds and even the field are often the same as in training—one thing is different: the handlers. We are so nervous that we are nauseated, with mouths so dry we can barely swallow. The animals reflect our anxiety in their behavior, and our seemingly stable, polished exercises disintegrate into vaudeville.

The effect is even worse when we “make the big time,” when we travel out of our region or even to another country for a major championship. Here, the helpers are new, the field is totally different, the blinds may be constructed entirely differently and our nerves are raw.

A German friend told us once about the experience of competing in the German National Schutzhund III Championship, the largest working-dog event in the world. “You have no idea what it is like. You walk into the arena with your dog and there are twenty thousand people waiting to see you. Everyone is talking, cheering, so excited. You can cut the air with a knife! Your dog, it feels it, and it becomes so strong, crazy like you have never seen it. It won’t listen. All it does is bite!” (This is the good kind of problem to have in these circumstances. The other kind is when your dog becomes weak like you have never seen it, and refuses to bite at all.)

The process of overtraining the animal so that this does not occur is called proofing. Some trainers approach proofing by relying upon routine. They run the whole series of exercises, in order and according to all the rules, so many times that for both the handler and the dog all commands and responses become automatic, mechanized. The problem is that this requires much useless rehearsing of exercises that are already nearly flawless and will only suffer by repetition. The process is boring, and will soon take the luster of power and energy off the animal.

We proof in a different way, by perfecting the dog’s performance in bizarre situations that are far more demanding than the trial itself. We have no set progression of exercises. Instead, it is a matter of inspiration and improvisation. Here are some scenarios that we have used successfully for proofing the hold and bark:

• performing the exercise inside a building, or on a slick floor, in the near dark, or in the glare of headlights, among crowds of loud, jostling people, inside vans, or in the beds of pickup trucks, even on flights of stairs

• performing the hold and bark on seated agitators, costumed agitators or agitators equipped with bite suits or hidden sleeves instead of Schutzhund sleeves

• setting up foot races to the blind of thirty, forty or even seventy-five yards. The helper is given enough of a head start so that he can reach the blind and freeze just before the dog arrives. If the animal can control the white-hot desire produced by the pursuit—skidding into the blind, bouncing off the agitator without biting him and settling into a hold and bark—then there is little that will disturb its performance on trial day. (This procedure is also excellent for lending power to its bark in the blind, because it will make the dog very “pushy.”)

Our method of teaching the hold and bark produces dogs that are powerful and clean in the blind, not dogs that sit in front of the sleeve and yap politely for a bite, nor animals that bark helplessly from a distance. It produces animals that (for lack of another phrase) push in close to the agitator and “get in his face”—demanding that he move so that they can bite him.

GOAL 2: The dog will out cleanly on command.

Once the dog has a flawless hold and bark, the out is very simply taught. However, it must be well taught. If we school the out badly or incompletely, it will haunt us for the rest of the dog’s working career.

Early on in training, when the animal is still comparatively naive, we have one chance to teach it that it must release its bite on command—one opportunity to convince it that we are omnipotent and that we can reach it anywhere on the field and correct it if it disobeys. If we squander this opportunity, if the dog learns that we are actually far from omnipotent, then we will create a very persistent training problem for ourselves.

The amount of force used is critical. Too much force will inhibit the dog, killing drive and disturbing its mouth so that it bites badly or uses only a half mouth when it senses an out coming. Too little force will give the animal the opportunity to resist us, to fight the out, and as the frustrated handler gradually increases the severity of his corrections, the animal’s ability to endure them will increase as well. Soon the dog will bum as much energy fighting the out as it does fighting the decoy.

We differ from some other trainers in our desire to preserve, as much as possible, our dog’s sensitivity to us and to the correction collar. (Intensely hard animals are prized usually only by those who have never attempted to control one in bite work.) We preserve sensitivity by giving the dog little experience with corrections, so that it never has the opportunity to get used to them. When we correct, we do so sharply and effectively, so that there is not even a question of the dog resisting us. The animal quickly does as we ask and therefore undergoes few corrections. This has the effect of saving both dog and trainer a great deal of grief.

Important Concepts for Meeting the Goal

1. Back tying the dog

2. Forcing the out

3. Preventing discrimination

4. Outing the dog at distance

The first step in teaching the out is to create for ourselves a great mechanical advantage over the dog. After all, we are preparing to take the sleeve from its mouth or, more correctly, to force the dog to relinquish it. We have already spent months teaching the animal to be extraordinarily passionate and stubborn about keeping its bite against all opposition. Now we will have to overcome this stubbornness, and it will have to be done smoothly and precisely and with as little fuss as possible.

If we attempt to wrestle the sleeve from the dog by simply pulling or prying or jerking it backward off the sleeve, we often just succeed in teaching the animal to hold on more tenaciously, because we inadvertently stimulate the same oppositional reflex in it that we exploited in order to fix its mouth on the sleeve during drive work.

The trick is to correct into the sleeve. We begin by tethering the animal to a post or a tree on its leather agitation collar with about ten feet of line. In addition to the agitation collar, the dog wears a correction collar, which is fitted so that the leash attaches to it under its jaw. In other words, the correction collar faces forward, not back.

The handler and his assistant (who controls the correction leash) both stand outside the dog’s circle, facing it, and the decoy works in between them and the dog, being careful not to foul the correction line. If the agitator wears a left-handed sleeve, then the assistant stands to his left, or vice versa. Thus, when the dog is on the sleeve, the correction leash will run from the collar, under the decoy’s elbow, and to the assistant. If the assistant cranes his neck a little, he can still see the dog’s mouth on the sleeve—so that he does not inappropriately correct an animal that is already outing.

The tether line and the correction leash form a straight line running directly from the tree to the assistant’s hands. With the tree to anchor it, all the force of any correction is transmitted directly to the dog’s neck. Therefore, it is possible for the assistant to administer an effective correction with precisely the amount of force he intends, neither too harsh nor too light.

The traditional method, in which the handler corrected back and away from the helper with no anchoring post, made for a very sloppy correction because the decoy’s arm absorbed a great deal of the force intended for the dog. A hard correction would simply drag both helper and dog a little closer to the handler rather than force the animal off the sleeve. The result was often that, in the end, excessive force was used in order to accomplish the out. For this reason, the back-tie method described here is actually far kinder to the dogs.

The helper begins the process by, as always, stimulating the dog. He runs back and forth around the circle described by the dog’s tether until the animal is extremely excited. Meanwhile the assistant plays the line so that both decoy and dog have the freedom to move without becoming entangled. The decoy allows a bite and then he fights the animal very strongly, pulling against the tether to fix the bite. When the dog is hard on the sleeve and very much in spirit, the decoy takes three precisely timed actions:

1. He takes a very short step toward the tree, so as to drop about six inches of slack into the tether. (Never attempt to out a dog with the animal’s mouth under tension. Remember, physical restraint stimulates the animal to bite harder.)

2. He then freezes, standing still with the sleeve across his torso, braced strongly against the dog’s attempts to drag him to and fro.

3. When he is ready, the agitator signals to the handler with a nod.

The handler gives a crisp “Out!” command—he does not shout—and at the same instant the assistant corrects the dog sharply and with enough force that the animal instantly releases the sleeve. The assistant does not pull or tug at the dog; he delivers a snapping jerk. If the first is not enough, then he delivers another crisp and slightly stronger correction, and so on. As we have already stated, the amount of force is crucial. Therefore, the person in the club with the best “hands” and the most experience should always serve as the assistant.

The dog should out and, because of all its schooling in the hold and bark, automatically rock back and begin barking. However, if it attempts to rebite, the assistant calmly corrects it again.

The instant the dog settles and lets out a bark or two, the handler allows it another bite and a vigorous fight and then slips the sleeve for it.

In other words, we reward the animal for its out with a bite and then possession of the sleeve. Too many trainers think of the out—and all the other control exercises too—as solely forced exercises, something that the dog is only resentfully compelled to do and that it will fight against tooth and claw. But there is a way to present the out to the animal so that it is in its interest to do it, not just in order to avoid a correction, but also in order to gain a bite and then possession of the sleeve.

Remember, a good fight takes two, and when the agitator freezes he robs the dog of a great part of the gratification involved in biting the sleeve. How can the animal reactivate the agitator? By letting go of the sleeve! We teach the dog to demand the helper’s participation by outing and barking. The sequence is as follows:

1. The decoy allows a bite and fights vigorously. Gratification for the dog is intense.

2. The decoy freezes. Gratification for the dog declines sharply.

3. On command, the dog outs and barks.

4. In response to the animal’s barking, the decoy allows another bite, fights vigorously and then gives the sleeve to the dog.

We must make for the dog a very clear and strong connection between the act of outing and barking and being rewarded with the sleeve. We make this connection by positioning these two events very close in time. Perhaps as little as two or three seconds elapse between the moment the dog outs and the moment it has the sleeve back in its mouth again.

The mistake trainers so frequently make is to out the dog and then make it bark for two minutes in an attempt to “bum” the idea in or, even worse, to out the dog and then heel it away from the agitator in an attempt to keep it clean. This is completely wrong because it gives the dog the idea that, by outing, it gives up the agitator and the sleeve, and loses them both.

Remember, we selected the dog for precisely its tenacity and its willingness to endure a great deal in the fight to keep possession of its prey. When it does not perceive a relationship between releasing the sleeve and then immediately getting it back again, we should not be surprised if it resists all but the most extreme force in order to stay on the sleeve. Therefore, in the beginning of out training, the sequence is bite-out-bite, and this chain of events is extremely rapid.

Once the dog has the idea and the out has become somewhat habitual, we can become less concerned about rewarding the out immediately and (1) gradually extend the period of time and the number of barks between the out and the rebite, and (2) perform sequences of outs, so that the animal bites and outs several times in a row before we allow it to have the sleeve.

Discrimination is the phenomenon that takes place when the dog realizes the limitations on our ability to control it. The following scenario will serve as an example.

This scenario shows how a true problem dog is made. Here are some common “solutions,” and the additional problems that result.

1. The decoy corrects the animal by striking it on the foreleg with the stick.

The new problem: Stick corrections weaken the dog, teaching it respect for the decoy and fear of the stick. The last thing we want is for our dog to respect the decoy or fear the stick.

2. The handler stands near the dog and corrects it if it disobeys.

The same old problem: The correction is still dependent upon the proximity of the handler. What will we do for an out at distance?

The new problem: More seriously, this technique teaches fear and mistrust of the handler, so that the animal bites badly any time its handler is near. This, of course, is exactly the wrong state of affairs. The dog should draw strength and encouragement from its handler during bite work.

3. An electric collar is used to correct the dog on the out.

The same old problem: Discrimination is still possible; the animal can still learn when it is wearing the “live” collar and when not, especially if the methods used are slipshod (as they often are when a handler buys an electric collar as a cure-all for failures in technique).

The new problem: The electric collar is a tremendously powerful (usually too powerful) compulsive training device, and must be used with great skill and flawless technique. Unfortunately, skill and technique in the use of the electric collar must be learned at the expense of a dog or two. Therefore, few trainers really know how to use this device. In addition, because of the particular nature of electrical stimulation, the electric collar has a tendency to weaken all but very hard animals.

The fundamental reality is that we lack the ability to control the animal at all times on the field and, ultimately, we depend upon nothing more than force of habit and our strength of personality to impose our will upon it.

The solution to this fundamental problem is to keep the dog from finding us out, to prevent discrimination. We do so by, first, avoiding the mistakes described above and, second, by overtraining the animal. We leave it on the post so long, and perform the out in so many different ways that it is virtually locked in habit. Its behavior where the out is concerned is no longer plastic. The dog outs invariably, no matter what the context. Discrimination is prevented because, since the dog does not disobey, it never learns that sometimes we are unable to control it when it disobeys. We are, as far as it is concerned, omnipotent.

We overtrain by proofing:

1. We perform outs under very difficult, distracting or stimulating circumstances that far exceed the difficulties of a Schutzhund trial. For example:

• out the dog off a decoy who is not frozen but actively struggling against the animal

• out the dog off a decoy who sits in a chair or lies upon the ground

• back tie the dog in a dark building, on a slick floor or inside a confined space and train the out

• practice the out while the dog is surrounded by a crowd of milling spectators

2. We make the dog practice the skill perfectly many times in order to establish it as an invariable habit. Remember, practice does not make perfect; perfect practice makes perfect.

Once the animal outs flawlessly in every conceivable circumstance, no matter what the difficulty, and has done so for several weeks, during which the correction line has lain slack and unused in the assistant’s hands, then it is ready to be taken off the back tie, and not before.

The training we have accomplished up to this point will suffice for all but very difficult dogs in the front work, the protection exercises in which the handler is relatively close to his dog for the out. However, for two reasons, the longdistance courage test outs will present problems with even an extensively overtrained and proofed dog:

1. These outs come immediately after the courage test. The dog is inspired and highly stimulated.

2. During the courage test, nobody is within 100 to 200 feet of the animal, except the decoy. The unfamiliarity of the context, in addition to the dog’s high level of spirit, can lead to disobedience and then discrimination.

In order to overcome these difficulties, we need a method of correcting the dog that

• does not depend upon the proximity to the dog of the handler or an assistant

• does not depend upon a cumbersome long line

• will not teach the dog respect or fear for the decoy or for the stick

The best method we have found makes use of a tight pinch collar and a short (two to three foot), very light line hanging from it. The dog drags the line with it as it goes down the field after the agitator (it has no wrist loop or knot to tangle in the animal’s legs) and after the bite the helper grabs hold of it under the sleeve with his free hand. If necessary for the out, he then corrects the dog with a short, precise movement of his arm.

The agitators who are good at this technique can deliver a relatively strong correction without making it obvious to the dog from whence the compulsion comes. It is important that the decoy does not command the dog himself or threaten the animal. He acts only as a mechanical agent for the handler.

Because of limitations on leverage, and because of the physical strength of even a medium-sized dog, this technique will not work with a dog that is experienced in disobedience and determined to keep its bite. However, in the case of a well-prepared and extensively overtrained animal that is inclined to out anyway, the method is ideal.