For reasons known only to them, a flock of young turkeys has decided to troop through my front yard to reach the woods above the house instead of gaining access to the woods from one of the many places further away. It could be because that the snow in that area melted sooner than the rest of the slope and the dead leaves offered more camouflage.
It’s also possible there’s more food in this area. Judging from the way my dogs carry on as they watch the birds make the trek, they apparently think the turkeys have chosen this route to entertain them.
But regardless of how much the dogs bark or how often the shutter on my camera clicks, the turkeys remain unruffled by our presence, secure in the awareness that we’re a trustworthy bunch. Even when something more problematic causes them to move on, they move with an elegance belied by their size.
The turkeys’ behavior caused me to think about that ephemeral quality known as presence and how much more easily it seems to come to animals than people. Those thoughts got a shove further along this path by an exchange with a client about her interactions with her dog.
But first some necessarily background.
The nature of training focused on reward or punishment can create several problems for some human-animal combinations. One is that its either/or emphasis may lead to a dichotomous system of thinking that they then extend to all of their interactions with the animal. If something about an interaction doesn’t strike them as positive, then it must be negative. The idea that something can be different without being negative doesn’t compute in a positive or negative system.
In keeping with behaviorism’s basic tenant, some people also will repeat behaviors toward the animal that they consider positive, and avoid those that they consider negative. The key point here is that this is based on how these people feel about the behaviors and not what these behaviors actually communicate to the animal, which may or may not agree with that perception.
Another problem with behaviorism related to this discussion is that its process can enhance some people’s existing need to be highly reactive to their animal. The training process normally concludes with the person reacting to the animal’s response with either a reward or a punishment.
If the animal has the temperament and confidence to handle the effects of such human beliefs, no problems arise. If not, this may manifest in a range of behavioral and/or stress-related medical ones.
That’s the background. Now the dilemma. First, let me preference this with my usual disclaimer: I don’t care if your pet wears your underwear as long as the animal isn’t suffering from behavioral and/or stress-related medical problems. If the animal is, then we need to look at the relationship along with everything else.
For those who naturally or by virtue of conditioning of one sort or another view reacting to attention-seeking displays as a positive part of their interaction with their animals, the idea of not reacting to those displays, by definition, is negative. The more positive the emotional charge assigned to such reactions, the more negatively that person will view ignoring such displays.
Some people are so frightened by the idea of not reacting to the animal that they take a kill-the-messenger approach to anyone who would suggest such an approach to help the animal gain self-control and the self-confidence that goes with it. But most people do understand the value of this for the animal and summon the wherewithal to do it. Even so, for many doing this isn’t easy. Because of this, I’ve spent a great deal of time over the years thinking about how to make it more so.
Within my collection of ways to do this shared by clients and friends are various techniques that enable people to focus on something other than their sometimes palpable desire to react to their animals’ pushy demands for attention. iPods or iPhones that enable people to listen to music, read or otherwise distract themselves have been a boon for the more technologically attuned; books, magazines, singing silently or out loud work well for more traditional owners. But in all cases, it’s the commitment to the animal for the long haul, the willingness to make sometimes difficult changes in the self in the short haul to ensure lasting results in animal behavior in the long haul that fuels the process.
But while I spend a lot of time thinking about ways to make things easier for my clients, sometimes something so simple as changing a word can make all the difference. When my client wrote me that she was practicing “aloofness” with her dog, the standoffish, alienating connotation of the word bothered me. I knew my client would summon the wherewithal to pull this off for the benefit of her dog. But I also knew that this word would set an emotional stage that could make this more difficult than it needed to be.
But what was a better word? At that point and with some trepidation, I decided to take a gamble; I suggested she replace any aloofness with presence. It was a gamble because when I think of presence, I think of a mindbody quality. In that context and unlike an aloof person who separates him- or herself from the animal, people with presence are very mentally or spiritually present, enfolding the animal in a way that supports the animal without necessitating any physical interaction, including eye contact. Some might even say that presence transcends those kinds of physical interaction.
Hence my trepidation at suggesting this approach. To those who are aware of this quality, there’s a tremendous difference between addressing an animal’s problematic attention-seeking displays with presence compared to aloofness—or anger, frustration, deprivation, or any other mental state that carries a negative connotation. But for those who need to react to their animals for their own sense of worth and well-being, such a suggestion is beyond heretical. It’s downright terrifying because they lack the self-confidence in themselves and the animal, i.e. the presence, to pull it off.
In this particular incident, my client recognized the difference and immediately made the necessary changes in her demeanor. I, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief that she is among those who had expanded her self-awareness to include this extra dimension that’s so beneficial to our animals.
As if to further support this approach, not that long afterward I received an email from another person that included the following quotation by writer Edward Hoagland. Relative to animals, it seemed to me that it summed up that ephemeral quality known as presence. He wrote:
In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesn’t merely try to train him to be semi-human. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog.
To me, the goal of behaviorism is to create a semi-human animal, an animal willing to do things that please us in response to a teaching method that pleases us, too. But to relate to animals with presence is to open ourselves to the possibility of becoming truly one with them, even if in only a small way.
If you have any comments regarding subject matter, favorite links, or anything you’d like to see discussed on or added to this site, please let me know at mm@mmilani.com.
It’s also possible there’s more food in this area. Judging from the way my dogs carry on as they watch the birds make the trek, they apparently think the turkeys have chosen this route to entertain them.
But regardless of how much the dogs bark or how often the shutter on my camera clicks, the turkeys remain unruffled by our presence, secure in the awareness that we’re a trustworthy bunch. Even when something more problematic causes them to move on, they move with an elegance belied by their size.
But first some necessarily background.
The nature of training focused on reward or punishment can create several problems for some human-animal combinations. One is that its either/or emphasis may lead to a dichotomous system of thinking that they then extend to all of their interactions with the animal. If something about an interaction doesn’t strike them as positive, then it must be negative. The idea that something can be different without being negative doesn’t compute in a positive or negative system.
In keeping with behaviorism’s basic tenant, some people also will repeat behaviors toward the animal that they consider positive, and avoid those that they consider negative. The key point here is that this is based on how these people feel about the behaviors and not what these behaviors actually communicate to the animal, which may or may not agree with that perception.
Another problem with behaviorism related to this discussion is that its process can enhance some people’s existing need to be highly reactive to their animal. The training process normally concludes with the person reacting to the animal’s response with either a reward or a punishment.
If the animal has the temperament and confidence to handle the effects of such human beliefs, no problems arise. If not, this may manifest in a range of behavioral and/or stress-related medical ones.
That’s the background. Now the dilemma. First, let me preference this with my usual disclaimer: I don’t care if your pet wears your underwear as long as the animal isn’t suffering from behavioral and/or stress-related medical problems. If the animal is, then we need to look at the relationship along with everything else.
For those who naturally or by virtue of conditioning of one sort or another view reacting to attention-seeking displays as a positive part of their interaction with their animals, the idea of not reacting to those displays, by definition, is negative. The more positive the emotional charge assigned to such reactions, the more negatively that person will view ignoring such displays.
Some people are so frightened by the idea of not reacting to the animal that they take a kill-the-messenger approach to anyone who would suggest such an approach to help the animal gain self-control and the self-confidence that goes with it. But most people do understand the value of this for the animal and summon the wherewithal to do it. Even so, for many doing this isn’t easy. Because of this, I’ve spent a great deal of time over the years thinking about how to make it more so.
Within my collection of ways to do this shared by clients and friends are various techniques that enable people to focus on something other than their sometimes palpable desire to react to their animals’ pushy demands for attention. iPods or iPhones that enable people to listen to music, read or otherwise distract themselves have been a boon for the more technologically attuned; books, magazines, singing silently or out loud work well for more traditional owners. But in all cases, it’s the commitment to the animal for the long haul, the willingness to make sometimes difficult changes in the self in the short haul to ensure lasting results in animal behavior in the long haul that fuels the process.
But while I spend a lot of time thinking about ways to make things easier for my clients, sometimes something so simple as changing a word can make all the difference. When my client wrote me that she was practicing “aloofness” with her dog, the standoffish, alienating connotation of the word bothered me. I knew my client would summon the wherewithal to pull this off for the benefit of her dog. But I also knew that this word would set an emotional stage that could make this more difficult than it needed to be.
But what was a better word? At that point and with some trepidation, I decided to take a gamble; I suggested she replace any aloofness with presence. It was a gamble because when I think of presence, I think of a mindbody quality. In that context and unlike an aloof person who separates him- or herself from the animal, people with presence are very mentally or spiritually present, enfolding the animal in a way that supports the animal without necessitating any physical interaction, including eye contact. Some might even say that presence transcends those kinds of physical interaction.
Hence my trepidation at suggesting this approach. To those who are aware of this quality, there’s a tremendous difference between addressing an animal’s problematic attention-seeking displays with presence compared to aloofness—or anger, frustration, deprivation, or any other mental state that carries a negative connotation. But for those who need to react to their animals for their own sense of worth and well-being, such a suggestion is beyond heretical. It’s downright terrifying because they lack the self-confidence in themselves and the animal, i.e. the presence, to pull it off.
In this particular incident, my client recognized the difference and immediately made the necessary changes in her demeanor. I, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief that she is among those who had expanded her self-awareness to include this extra dimension that’s so beneficial to our animals.
As if to further support this approach, not that long afterward I received an email from another person that included the following quotation by writer Edward Hoagland. Relative to animals, it seemed to me that it summed up that ephemeral quality known as presence. He wrote:
In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesn’t merely try to train him to be semi-human. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog.
To me, the goal of behaviorism is to create a semi-human animal, an animal willing to do things that please us in response to a teaching method that pleases us, too. But to relate to animals with presence is to open ourselves to the possibility of becoming truly one with them, even if in only a small way.
If you have any comments regarding subject matter, favorite links, or anything you’d like to see discussed on or added to this site, please let me know at mm@mmilani.com.