Dinner is served

Mr Clegg was obviously embarrassed. Sadly, it was quite common 35 years ago for dog problems to escalate. There wasn’t the same access to the Internet, and there was not the information or advice that is available now. Plus, of course, animal behaviourism was still in its infancy, with confrontational training competing with the relatively new concept of the nonconfrontational approach to dealing with poor behaviour.

As a professional trainer, I embraced this new concept but accepted that sometimes, the best approach is to meet a problem head-on.

Mr Clegg met me at his home and introduced me to Chowmein, a very friendly Chow Chow. This breed originates from Northern China and has an almost unique characteristic: a blue/black tongue.

“Well, you had better show me what happens during feeding time,” I suggested.

Mr Clegg had the bowl of food already prepared, which was just a standard, well-known brand of dry food.

He went into the kitchen, placed the bowl on the floor, left the room, and called Chowmein, who entered the kitchen, and Mr Clegg hurriedly shut the door.

“That’s how we feed him. We can’t go in there; he will growl, and I am sure he will attack us.”

“I know we should have done something about this when it started, but I’m sure you’ve heard it before. We thought that he would grow out of it, and to be honest, apart from the food problem, he really is a great dog. My wife adores him, but we just can’t cope much longer. We can’t live like this for another ten years. He will have to go.”

Mr Clegg sadly shook his head. The poor man was genuinely distressed

A written report

“To be truthful, I did get a behaviourist in; I was given a written report and a list of things to do which, according to the lady, will eventually cure him.”

I read the report, and it was very comprehensive, and it included instructions for dealing with the problem.

I entered the kitchen and sure enough Chowmein showed his teeth, he growled and gave me a look that said it all, come any closer and get hurt. I had seen all that I needed to see. Discretion being the better part of valour, I exited the room and suggested we had a chat.

Now, age doesn’t always mean wisdom, but when it came to dealing with complicated issues, I had learned over time not to make instant decisions.

I suggested that I needed time to consider the options and would be in touch.

I pondered.

The behaviourist’s report was accurate; the advice was standard even in providing stages advice as progress was made. I really couldn’t fault it. In fact, it was precisely what I would have recommended and is still used today. The only problem was after four months there was virtually no improvement, it just wasn’t working. In those days, it was common for the behaviourist to see the dog, write a report and give written advice. The client paid the bill, and any further consultations would have to be paid for, as Mr Clegg quite rightly pointed out that the behaviourist’s bill was over £100, which 35 years ago was a lot of money for some people, in fairness, it was a lot of money for me as well so I understood.

Hard experience had taught me that the confrontational approach to food aggression was usually unsuccessful, particularly when the owner was involved.

It could sometimes be done by removing the dog from the household, taking it to a training kennel and sometimes the cycle could be broken, but unfortunately, when the dog was returned to the owner and was back in its own environment, the problem would often reappear. So what to do? The non-confrontational approach wasn’t working and showed no sign of progress, and the confrontational approach had a very poor success rate.

An unorthodox approach

A radical approach was called for. The main problem with radical approaches was that there was no template to work from, and guesswork was always open to catastrophic failure. As the man brought in to solve the unsolvable, I could end up looking like a complete idiot.

I finally came up with a plan, explained it to Mr Clegg who looked at me with utter disbelief, looked terrified and needed a lot of persuasion.

“This is what we are going to do. We go outside and sit on your patio with a cup of tea. Chowmein will be loose, and when we are ready, I will take half the normal quantity of food, place it in a mug and very gently throw it a short distance away over the patio. Your dog will eat his dinner, and there will not be any bowl to protect, and he will be so busy finding his dinner that our presence will not be an issue. Having got past that hurdle, you will throw the second half of his dinner in the same place.”

“How are you going to stop him attacking us?”

“That’s not going to be a problem as I will be between you and Chowmein and I will have a protective sleeve so if anyone gets attacked it will be me.”

“Can I have a protective sleeve as well?”

“Certainly” I replied

Sure enough, Chowmein did exactly as I predicted. With no bowl to protect and having to “work” for his dinner, he was so preoccupied with finding the food that he completely ignored us. Having found every morsel, he showed no signs of anger, and when we repeated the procedure, the result was the same.

My reasoning? Changing the feeding place, removing the bowl and making the dog work for its dinner would all combine to break the cycle of violence.

Progress

The weeks passed, and I was a regular visitor. I didn’t charge for most of the visits as I was desperate to see if this would work, and I didn’t want setbacks. Sure enough, we progressed from outdoors back to the kitchen, still scattering food over the floor, with Mr Clegg sitting and having a cup of tea. We progressed to having Mrs Clegg in the room as well, then to have one of them standing, moving one pace, and so on until Chowmein showed no aggression at all while he ate his dinner.

There was, unfortunately, a consequence that I had not envisaged because any attempt to put food in a bowl would see him return to his unacceptable behaviour, so a compromise was reached. The Cleggs acquired a very large dinner tray, the type used in restaurants, and Chowmein spent the rest of his life eating his dinner off the tray. I must admit I did regret that I couldn’t get over the bowl issue, but the Cleggs were delighted that they could keep their pet and showed no disappointment that the final hurdle couldn’t be overcome.

This was not a problem that I encountered regularly and had almost forgotten the incident until many years later when I received a phone call.

“We are new neighbours of the Anne And Michael Clegg and we have just seen how they feed their Chow. Well, we have this German Shepherd Dog and….. “