For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by tipping points, those points at which something superficially appears to change instantly. When I founded an organization to explore the interaction of animal health, behavior, and the human-animal relationship, there was no doubt in my mind that I would call it TippingPoint because so many natural displays conform to this principle. Rather than always plodding along like tortoises or leaping like hares, changes often reflect a combination of the two. Changes within an individual, species, or environment progress linearly and predictably up to a point, but then one more perhaps even seemingly insignificant movement in that same direction suddenly shifts everything in a completely new one.
Unfortunately, for many companion animals and their owners, such tipping points often reflect the collapse of the relationship following some canine or feline misdeed. Pieface growls at MaryLou when she tells him to get off her new bedspread, and she screams, “I refuse to put up with this behavior after all I’ve done for you! You’re outta here!” Cinnamon pees on Derek’s new briefcase and he shouts, “That cat is history!”
However, in reality these sudden leaps from cherished pet to outcast rarely occur as the result of some sudden bolt out of the blue, instantaneous brain tumor, or inexplicable chemical imbalance. More often, they are the culmination of a slow and steady linear path that brings human and animal to the point at which one more perceived infraction tips the relationship in a whole new direction. MaryLou doesn’t see how all those months of what she considered loving interactions with Pieface led them to this point; Derek sees no connection between his urine-soaked briefcase and all the other stress-related signs Cinnamon displayed in the past that he chose to ignore.
The good news about these situations is that most people rethink their negative feelings about their pets when/if they realize that the animal’s behavior is quite natural under those particular circumstances. That, in turn, frees them from all the negative emotions associated with believing the animal suffers from some incurable disease or, worse, feelings that their pets find them unworthy of anything other than spiteful or mean displays. (I was going to add jealous displays here, but sad to say, there are a fair number of pet owners who like to think their pets are jealous, presumably because they think this means their animals need them so much, their pets go to pieces when there’s any competition. I consider this sad because it condemns those animals to live in the stressful state that perpetuates the negative behavior rather than eliminating it.)
The bad news is that making changes in ourselves and our pets to create the kind of stable physical and relationship environments that resolve negative behaviors puts us back in the tortoise mode again. Suddenly we must be committed, patient, and consistent long enough for that new behavioral and bond path we’re laying down to be easier to follow than the problem one that we may have been building for years. In a society in which we tap our fingers testily if a website doesn’t load in a few seconds or the “instant” microwaveable meal takes more than 3 minutes to heat, the idea of mustering the wherewithal to hang in the months it may take to ensure these changes strikes us as grossly unfair. After all, we tell ourselves, Pieface’s and Cinnamon’s sins occurred in mere seconds: Why can’t they be cured equally fast?
One fascinating aspect of negative companion animal behaviors is that reaching the tipping point at which bad gives way to good does not necessarily adhere to linear rules as most people envision them. For example, there’s a tendency to think that the more time and energy an animal devotes to negative displays, the more time and energy will be required for that animal to change. Often the adjective “dominant” and even “really dominant” is applied to these animals, as well as the often unfounded assumption that they were born bad’uns and making any changes would be as unrewarding as trying to change that proverbial tiger’s stripes. However, the more confidence and skill an individual has, the less time and energy necessary to get the job done. Thus an animal who goes berserk every time the doorbell rings is much more stressed and fearful than one who waits patiently and nails anyone who comes in the door with little to no warming. The animal who is most stressed has the most to gain from accepting the changes that relieve that stress and all its negative effects on body as well as mind and the relationship. On the other hand, the animal whose negative behavior doesn’t take much of an energy-toll may be more resistant to change.
When I consider the tipping points that occur for better or worse in companion animal behavior and the bond, it seems clear that it all boils down to energy. When Pieface growled and Cinnamon ruined that new briefcase, it suddenly required more energy for their owners to deal with the consequences of the displays than accepting or ignoring all the early warning signs that led up to this did in the past. For a brief period, they and their pets hang in the void; things aren’t what they were, but they’re not what the owners want them to be, either. How they then choose to use their energy, which way they leap—toward resolution of the problem or termination of the relationship—may be choice they make in an instant, but the subsequent linear manifestation of that choice will be with them for a long time.
For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by tipping points, those points at which something superficially appears to change instantly. When I founded an organization to explore the interaction of animal health, behavior, and the human-animal relationship, there was no doubt in my mind that I would call it TippingPoint because so many natural displays conform to this principle. Rather than always plodding along like tortoises or leaping like hares, changes often reflect a combination of the two. Changes within an individual, species, or environment progress linearly and predictably up to a point, but then one more perhaps even seemingly insignificant movement in that same direction suddenly shifts everything in a completely new one.
Unfortunately, for many companion animals and their owners, such tipping points often reflect the collapse of the relationship following some canine or feline misdeed. Pieface growls at MaryLou when she tells him to get off her new bedspread, and she screams, “I refuse to put up with this behavior after all I’ve done for you! You’re outta here!” Cinnamon pees on Derek’s new briefcase and he shouts, “That cat is history!”
However, in reality these sudden leaps from cherished pet to outcast rarely occur as the result of some sudden bolt out of the blue, instantaneous brain tumor, or inexplicable chemical imbalance. More often, they are the culmination of a slow and steady linear path that brings human and animal to the point at which one more perceived infraction tips the relationship in a whole new direction. MaryLou doesn’t see how all those months of what she considered loving interactions with Pieface led them to this point; Derek sees no connection between his urine-soaked briefcase and all the other stress-related signs Cinnamon displayed in the past that he chose to ignore.
The good news about these situations is that most people rethink their negative feelings about their pets when/if they realize that the animal’s behavior is quite natural under those particular circumstances. That, in turn, frees them from all the negative emotions associated with believing the animal suffers from some incurable disease or, worse, feelings that their pets find them unworthy of anything other than spiteful or mean displays. (I was going to add jealous displays here, but sad to say, there are a fair number of pet owners who like to think their pets are jealous, presumably because they think this means their animals need them so much, their pets go to pieces when there’s any competition. I consider this sad because it condemns those animals to live in the stressful state that perpetuates the negative behavior rather than eliminating it.)
The bad news is that making changes in ourselves and our pets to create the kind of stable physical and relationship environments that resolve negative behaviors puts us back in the tortoise mode again. Suddenly we must be committed, patient, and consistent long enough for that new behavioral and bond path we’re laying down to be easier to follow than the problem one that we may have been building for years. In a society in which we tap our fingers testily if a website doesn’t load in a few seconds or the “instant” microwaveable meal takes more than 3 minutes to heat, the idea of mustering the wherewithal to hang in the months it may take to ensure these changes strikes us as grossly unfair. After all, we tell ourselves, Pieface’s and Cinnamon’s sins occurred in mere seconds: Why can’t they be cured equally fast?
One fascinating aspect of negative companion animal behaviors is that reaching the tipping point at which bad gives way to good does not necessarily adhere to linear rules as most people envision them. For example, there’s a tendency to think that the more time and energy an animal devotes to negative displays, the more time and energy will be required for that animal to change. Often the adjective “dominant” and even “really dominant” is applied to these animals, as well as the often unfounded assumption that they were born bad’uns and making any changes would be as unrewarding as trying to change that proverbial tiger’s stripes. However, the more confidence and skill an individual has, the less time and energy necessary to get the job done. Thus an animal who goes berserk every time the doorbell rings is much more stressed and fearful than one who waits patiently and nails anyone who comes in the door with little to no warming. The animal who is most stressed has the most to gain from accepting the changes that relieve that stress and all its negative effects on body as well as mind and the relationship. On the other hand, the animal whose negative behavior doesn’t take much of an energy-toll may be more resistant to change.
When I consider the tipping points that occur for better or worse in companion animal behavior and the bond, it seems clear that it all boils down to energy. When Pieface growled and Cinnamon ruined that new briefcase, it suddenly required more energy for their owners to deal with the consequences of the displays than accepting or ignoring all the early warning signs that led up to this did in the past. For a brief period, they and their pets hang in the void; things aren’t what they were, but they’re not what the owners want them to be, either. How they then choose to use their energy, which way they leap—toward resolution of the problem or termination of the relationship—may be choice they make in an instant, but the subsequent linear manifestation of that choice will be with them for a long time.