In a previous post from Molly Stone, a Certified Dog Behavior Consultant and Certified Dog Trainer and the Animal Behavior Specialist at the SPCA of Wake County, she shared details from her harrowing first-person account of a puppy mill raid. Molly has been participating in several raids a year since 2012, and in this post, she tells us some of the things she’s learned while rescuing, caring for, and rehabilitating puppy mill survivors.

Introduction

Every time we participate in a puppy mill rescue we meet dozens (and dozens) of adult dogs who struggle to accept our help and seem utterly lost and emotionally broken. Immediately, we start listing the things those dogs are going to need from us, the things we’ll need to teach them so they will have a shot at being successful after the puppy mill chapter of their lives has been closed for good. Invariably, they need obedience training and housetraining and crate training and leash training. They need to be taught that people are benevolent and trustworthy, and they need to be taught that the world is vastly bigger than they had ever imagined it to be.

Puppy mill dogs don’t know ceiling fans. They don’t know stairs. They don’t know bicycles or cars or skateboards or children or cats or doorways or storm drains or trash bags or concrete garden gnomes. Everything is new, and for many of them, everything seems terrifying and extremely dangerous. Living in a tiny enclosure with minimal, if any, exposure to anything at all except the sound of their barking, hungry colleagues is a handicapping experience and the longer they have to suffer through it, the longer it will take them to recover from it. And some won’t. But we try because we know that when we’re successful, these dogs will reward us with an endless supply of unconditional love.

However, in my experience, I’ve learned that we’re learning as much from these frightened, isolated animals as we’re teaching them. In fact, my experience with puppy mill dogs over the past few years has made me a better, more patient animal trainer and a more understanding person in general. Here are some of the things they’ve illustrated for me:

Fearfulness = Survival

Imagine you’re a wild animal, and you’re terribly over-cautious. You are, in fact, afraid of pretty much everything. Every unexpected sound makes you run for cover. You avoid interacting with any creature or object you’re not familiar with. You venture out to find food, but then you return home as immediately as possible. What’s the worst thing that’s going to happen to you? Sure, you might miss out on some fun times that the other animals are having, and I suppose it’s possible that they might make fun of you for being such a nerd, but at the end of the day, your cautious, self-preserving habits mean that you’re probably going to stay alive a pretty long time. And that means you’re probably going to get more opportunities to make other wild animals than some of the more reckless, devil-may-care members of your species. So being fearful works for you, and it works for your genes, too. How likely is it you’ll just automatically believe some huge giant that scoops you up and explains to you that everything is fine and you don’t need to worry anymore?

Does your dog think the vacuum is a long-trunked monster that lives in the front hall closet? Does he bark like a raving madman when he hears fireworks? Does he crouch and tremble and seek refuge in a closet when a thunderstorm brews? These behaviors that sometimes look silly to us are the products of fear that has been programmed in our dogs’ brains for centuries. It’s factory-installed.  Hard-wired. Dogs with Vacuum Phobia aren’t trying to tell us that someone in their past once tried to suck them up into the Dyson. They’re telling us that our trusty housekeeping tool is something they don’t understand and don’t want in their house where everything is usually safe and comfortable and predictable. They don’t need to be punished if they lunge and bark and snap at our vacs. Instead, they need us to take the time that’s required to help them understand that those defensive actions just aren’t necessary, and that in fact, the vacuum isn’t even really all that important in terms of their personal safety at all. This takes patience and it takes empathy and sometimes, it might even take an extra glass of wine. But it’ll be worth it in the end because you’ll be able to vacuum your house without having to dodge your pooch while he’s in Emergency Vacuum Repelling mode, and he won’t think you’re perfectly insane when you holler at him for doing such Important Work.

Lots of puppy mill survivors see nearly everything the way our vacuum-sensitive dogs see vacuums. Can you imagine how exhausting that must be?

Never Talk to Strangers

Puppy mill dogs usually aren’t as excited about meeting us as we are about meeting them when we get on-site at a bust. In fact, sometimes they go to pretty impressive lengths to keep themselves as far away from us as their tiny, overcrowded, filthy enclosures will allow. There’s no reason for them to assume that we’re there to help them! We’re huge, there are a whole bunch of us, we’re noisy (even when we try not to be,) and we’re doing rude things like picking them up and holding them close while veterinarians examine them in a manner that is totally foreign to them. Imagine if a band of enthusiastic strangers came into your office and carried on like that with you and your staff! Instead of being automatically grateful, you’d probably be terrified at the prospect of being taken, without your consent, out of an environment you’ve grown used to. Besides, even if your fear was unfounded, why take such a massive risk? That would be reckless since there’s a possibility that these strangers are ax-murderers and serial killers and even reality television stars. Once again, puppy mill dogs remind us that when it comes to trusting people, Safe is a whole lot better than Sorry. They haven’t had positive, mutually affectionate, mutually respectful interactions with humans. They haven’t been given toys; they haven’t gone for car rides with their heads sticking out the window and their tongues flapping in the wind; they haven’t shared sofas or sleeping spaces. It can take a puppy mill survivor months on end to be able to bring herself to trust even just one human being because she’s never learned that people bring joy.

Does your dog stop eating when you leave a pet sitter in charge? Does she hide behind your skirt during a walk when a neighbor approaches to chat? Is there a particularly boisterous, deep-voiced friend that comes to visit that she can’t stand to be around even though that person is a dyed-in-the-wool dog lover? Has she ever snapped at the plumber or the UPS agent or the cable guy? If yes, instead of giving in to anger and embarrassment, try asking yourself “why shouldn’t she do that?” Does she have a real reason to be happy to see the pet sitter, or is the pet sitter merely an indicator that her family isn’t going to be around for a while? Has the neighbor repeatedly established himself as a valuable, benevolent friend? Has she had positive experiences when there have been service people in your home? We don’t ask our kids to be affectionate with every single person they encounter no matter what the circumstances may be, and we shouldn’t ask our dogs to be, either.  They need information upon which to base their decisions, and it’s up to us to provide that information as clearly as we possibly can. That’s the best way to set them up to succeed.

Experience is the Best Teacher

Here’s the truth of the matter: If you’ve never experienced a Thing, there’s no way you can be familiar with it. Housetraining is a fine example! Can you guess where puppy mill dogs go to the bathroom? Although it’s horrifying, it isn’t surprising that since they’re never allowed out of their enclosures, that’s where they do everything. They eat and sleep and poop and pee right in the same space. And potty training isn’t the only thing they have no experience with. Guess what they do when someone they don’t recognize enters their space? They’re unable to get away; they’re completely vulnerable, and as we’ve already mentioned, puppy mill dogs don’t generally assume that strangers’ intentions are good ones. So they frequently go on the defensive. They bark, and they snarl, and they’ll show off their (usually neglected) teeth). And they’ll do everything they can think of to discourage the intruder from attempting to interact with them. Again, it’s as reasonable as it is heartbreaking, and it’s a response that’s the result of an utter lack of experience. And guess what puppy mill survivors think of grass and rollerblades and televisions? Well, they don’t. They have no idea what those things are. Literally everything in the universe is new and potentially terrifying and dangerous as far as a puppy mill dog is concerned. After they’re retrieved, some survivors shrink and hide to stay as invisible as possible when they see a television. Some freeze or panic or bolt frantically away when their feet touch grass for the first time. Puppy mill survivors are the extreme examples of the kinds of damage that can result from a lack of socialization. The best time to begin socializing a dog is when he’s a very young puppy. If that window of opportunity is missed, it’s very difficult to make up for lost time. Socializing an adult dog is a much trickier task than socializing a youngster, and there’s simply no substitute for proper socialization in terms of healthy canine development. So some puppy mill survivors will suffer the consequences of not having had appropriate socialization opportunities for the rest of their lives.

If your dog thinks the cars that pass him while he’s out for a walk are intolerable and he barks and lunges after them, make some time to pair passing cars with things he knows to be outstanding. (Think bacon, chicken, cheese.) If he’s convinced that people in uniforms are out to get him, see if you can set up some scenarios that will give him the chance to change his mind. Maybe you can start pairing the sight of the UPS truck with your dog’s favorite squeaky toy or a session of tug. If your dog wants to run off into the woods in terror every time he sees a baby stroller, try setting up a toy version in your house and using your best Mushy Momma voice to praise him every time he goes to investigate it. If your joyous praise happens to be coupled with cheeseburger chunks, well, that probably wouldn’t hurt, either. And if you’re considering bringing a puppy into your family, please remember that the most important thing you can do for him is to provide multiple brief, positive experiences with every single thing he’s ever likely to encounter in the future. If you do that, even if you never teach him anything else, you are exponentially increasing the likelihood that he will grow up to be a happy, confident, emotionally healthy adult.

Puppy mill survivors are special cases that require a lot of extra time, patience, and understanding. So as it turns out, another thing they remind us is that many times, Big Investments Yield Even Bigger Returns.

Molly Stone

Association of Animal Behavior Professionals Certified Dog Behavior Consultant/Certified Dog Trainer (AABP-CDBC/CDT)
International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants-Certified Dog Behavior Consultant (IAABC-CDBC)
Animal Behavior Specialist, SPCA of Wake County
www.spcawake.org

Follow the SPCA of Wake County on Facebook, Twitter @spcawake and Instagram @spcaofwakecounty. Contact Molly at mstone@spcawake.org or 919-532-2096.