Cheese, Please! My Dog, the Entrepreneur

Dice running his course.  photo: TK K9 Photography

Resource guarding (the non-pathological kind) is my favorite dog behavior problem to treat as a trainer. It’s easy to recognize, preventable with good management, and responds well to desensitization and counterconditioning techniques, all of which typically involve some kind of yummy treat.

While I’ve never had significant resource guarding issues with my own dogs, that’s probably because I start them off early, learning to share various items in exchange for a reward. I begin by teaching my puppies to bring me things that they find around the house, and they quickly learn that good things happen when they bring me stuff. If it is a toy, I play with them. If it’s an item I would rather they not have, I pay well for it in treats. I admire their discovery, but I don’t show too much interest in it.

Similarly, whenever I give my pups a chewy, I start by holding onto it for them to chew, only letting go several minutes into the chewing session. The puppies quickly learn that chewing is easier and more fun if someone with opposable thumbs participates. Chewing is a pack activity; I just take it one step further.

Of course, there are downsides to these methods. One - particularly for a raw food feeder - is a lifetime of dogs expecting me to hold their slimy, nasty, slippery treats while they settle in for a good chew. Yes, I could quit reinforcing or redirect the behavior, but I’ve decided to let the rules of our covenant apply.

Another is that my adult dogs still often bring me stuff. As they mature, they no longer put absolutely everything in their mouths so over time they only bring me toys that they deem relevant. Sure, I could tell them they’re too old for this game, but I can’t help but respond from time to time because it is nice to be invited to play. I am part of the pack!

Groovy Dice.  photo: Dawn Kovell

Which brings us to Dice, my intense Border-Whippet eidolon, and his work-for-cheese business.

Dice subscribes to the belief that anything worth doing is worth overdoing. He manifests the unique Border Collie ability to observe the environment and note what I like and don’t like (meaning to him, what pays and doesn’t pay). Without conscious training on my part, he offers behaviors I like and demonstrably refrains from behaviors I dislike. He has taught himself the difference.

Dice will stay on his bed staring holes through the back of my head as the other two dogs run to the door and bark. His laser gaze clearly states, “I am on my bed, not barking and not charging the door, LOOK AT ME.” While I would like to take full credit for his excellent behavior, I really can’t. I do, however, pay for it.

Dice’s payment choice is cheese. Cheese in any form. He can be sound asleep in the other room while I work in the kitchen, but the second I take a cheese product out of the refrigerator or cupboard he instantly materializes. One minute I am on my own in the kitchen, and the next Dice is suddenly available for hire. Do you need me to run an errand? Do you need someone to taste test that cheese for you?

If those offers don’t result in a work-for-cheese arrangement, off he goes to dig through the embarrassingly large toy and chewy bin, removing and assessing the value of each item. Choosing what he believes to be the most valuable one, he then offers it to me as a gift. “Just a gift, no strings attached, I just really love you, mom. However, if you feel it appropriate, a small cheese donation is always appreciated.”

Dice is now five years old. As an adolescent, past the stage where his puppy mouth had to explore everything, he quietly and with little fanfare, opened a small salvage and reclamation business. It is known that I pay for things. Therefore, Dice looks for things.

You never see him looking, he just appears with a hair tie, an errant sock, tooth flossing plastic, or a dropped piece of paper. He will also retrieve anything from anywhere. Mouth guard under the bed? Shimmy, shimmy, got it! Can’t reach the shoe in the back of the closet? No problem. Cheese, please!

If Dice were a human, he’d clearly be the owner of a successful small business by now, possibly even a franchise. So far he hasn’t inveigled my other two dogs into working for a cut of the profits, but there’s still time. Meanwhile, Dice’s eyes remain firmly on the prize.

And that’s most definitely cheese.