Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Duncan Training
I've had the unique opportunity to sit and observe a dog for the past several weeks. A co-worker down the hall brings her VERY smart canine with her to work and, when she is in her office, she leaves her door open.
When I say this is a "VERY smart canine", I should probably say "VERY well trained" but ... I dunno. Some things you cannot teach - some things are just known by intelligence. Duncan, the dog in question, is doubtlessly well-trained but he's also smart. He knows humans and their habits. He knows when to engage a person and when to not bother trying.
Duncan is an Australian Shepherd, a breed built for training. They're all about having a task or job and have been known to try to herd ANYthing, given the chance. You've probably seen this breed winning trophies at agility events, which are sometimes televised. They're amazing to watch, as they respond to whistles or more-subtle hand motions by their trainers.
Duncan is nearing 3 years of age and he participates in events like that occasionally. He had a leg issue as a pup and while it left no lasting effects, his care-giver decided that Duncan wouldn't be a professional agility dog. He is a professional, 'tho ... since he clearly has (and enjoys) his job here.
His job is to make people toss him his favorite red ball and Duncan is very good at his job.
When he and his care-giver arrive each day as the elevator doors come to our floor. Duncan will have been on a leash up to this point but, on the ride up, the leash is removed. Lesser dogs would bolt wildly as soon as the doors open. Duncan is not that dog.
The elevator doors open and only when his owner nods is there movement. Duncan will trot easily down the hallway and completely ignores any distractions that may be going on. He hears nothing but the voice of his care-giver and only has eyes for what she's told him to do. Without any instruction, he stops and sits at the door of his care-givers office. He knows I will greet him with a smile and some pats, but it is not time for that yet. He waits at the doorway while his care-giver gets her office keys out. His eyes are straight ahead and, once again, when the door opens, he does not move.
"Ok Duncan", says his care-giver, and he trots inside their office for his ball. In a fluid motion, he turns and trots into my office. It is time to greet me now.
Duncan had to train me on how this part of his day goes, so I'll tell you the process as it's been shown to me. I'm given a red ball. I toss the ball along the ground towards Duncan, who is laying low against the floor. Duncan blocks the progress and, using his nose, directs the ball back to me. I toss the ball along the ground towards Duncan. Duncan blocks the progress and, using his nose, directs the ball back to me. I toss the ball along the ground towards Duncan. Duncan blocks the progress, picks the ball up and allows me to give him a few pats before he turns and trots back into his office.
He will lay at the threshold between his office and the hallway, motionless and without making a sound, until one of three things happen: someone walks down the hallway, his care-giver gives him a task, or his care-giver has a meeting to go to and needs to close her door.
If it's the latter, Duncan will wait behind the door quietly and without issue. I've seen people knock on the door and walk away, never knowing Duncan is there. In fact, in thinking on it, I've never heard Duncan's bark.
Sometimes during the day, Duncan and his care-giver will have a task. He will trot down the hallway and stop at the elevator. I suppose the leash is put on during the trip to the ground floor and the task is carried out. Their return to the office is the same routine as when they arrive in the morning - no different at all.
Now if someone walks down the hallway when Duncan is in his threshold and he's NOT noticed, well it's as though he's not there at all. If, however, he is noticed, I will know because I will see his red ball sloooowly roll into the hallway. The person will pick up the ball and roll the ball along the ground towards Duncan. Sometimes, if this is a new person, they will not have received their "Duncan Training" and they'll toss Duncan the ball. Duncan will catch the ball, get back into his low position and will direct the ball back to the person with his nose, as if to say "no - this is not how we play this game. Here - let me show you." This process will continue until the person gives up and walks away (because Duncan NEVER gives up), and sometimes Duncan's ball has already begun to travel back into the hallway. Duncan will not get up to get his ball. I guess he just thinks of this as "fishing". I guess Duncan figures that someone else will be down the hall shortly enough, will notice the ball and will see Duncan, and the training will continue.
The thing I've noticed is that, almost universally, each person who notices Duncan and his ball will take a second or two to do the "roll and return" with him. At every level - senior management, reception staff, visitors, security guards, interview candidates - it makes no difference to Duncan who you are, what your title is, what shoes you're wearing ... if you notice him, he will roll you the ball.
When I say this is a "VERY smart canine", I should probably say "VERY well trained" but ... I dunno. Some things you cannot teach - some things are just known by intelligence. Duncan, the dog in question, is doubtlessly well-trained but he's also smart. He knows humans and their habits. He knows when to engage a person and when to not bother trying.
Duncan is an Australian Shepherd, a breed built for training. They're all about having a task or job and have been known to try to herd ANYthing, given the chance. You've probably seen this breed winning trophies at agility events, which are sometimes televised. They're amazing to watch, as they respond to whistles or more-subtle hand motions by their trainers.
Duncan is nearing 3 years of age and he participates in events like that occasionally. He had a leg issue as a pup and while it left no lasting effects, his care-giver decided that Duncan wouldn't be a professional agility dog. He is a professional, 'tho ... since he clearly has (and enjoys) his job here.
His job is to make people toss him his favorite red ball and Duncan is very good at his job.
When he and his care-giver arrive each day as the elevator doors come to our floor. Duncan will have been on a leash up to this point but, on the ride up, the leash is removed. Lesser dogs would bolt wildly as soon as the doors open. Duncan is not that dog.
The elevator doors open and only when his owner nods is there movement. Duncan will trot easily down the hallway and completely ignores any distractions that may be going on. He hears nothing but the voice of his care-giver and only has eyes for what she's told him to do. Without any instruction, he stops and sits at the door of his care-givers office. He knows I will greet him with a smile and some pats, but it is not time for that yet. He waits at the doorway while his care-giver gets her office keys out. His eyes are straight ahead and, once again, when the door opens, he does not move.
"Ok Duncan", says his care-giver, and he trots inside their office for his ball. In a fluid motion, he turns and trots into my office. It is time to greet me now.
Duncan had to train me on how this part of his day goes, so I'll tell you the process as it's been shown to me. I'm given a red ball. I toss the ball along the ground towards Duncan, who is laying low against the floor. Duncan blocks the progress and, using his nose, directs the ball back to me. I toss the ball along the ground towards Duncan. Duncan blocks the progress and, using his nose, directs the ball back to me. I toss the ball along the ground towards Duncan. Duncan blocks the progress, picks the ball up and allows me to give him a few pats before he turns and trots back into his office.
He will lay at the threshold between his office and the hallway, motionless and without making a sound, until one of three things happen: someone walks down the hallway, his care-giver gives him a task, or his care-giver has a meeting to go to and needs to close her door.
If it's the latter, Duncan will wait behind the door quietly and without issue. I've seen people knock on the door and walk away, never knowing Duncan is there. In fact, in thinking on it, I've never heard Duncan's bark.
Sometimes during the day, Duncan and his care-giver will have a task. He will trot down the hallway and stop at the elevator. I suppose the leash is put on during the trip to the ground floor and the task is carried out. Their return to the office is the same routine as when they arrive in the morning - no different at all.
Now if someone walks down the hallway when Duncan is in his threshold and he's NOT noticed, well it's as though he's not there at all. If, however, he is noticed, I will know because I will see his red ball sloooowly roll into the hallway. The person will pick up the ball and roll the ball along the ground towards Duncan. Sometimes, if this is a new person, they will not have received their "Duncan Training" and they'll toss Duncan the ball. Duncan will catch the ball, get back into his low position and will direct the ball back to the person with his nose, as if to say "no - this is not how we play this game. Here - let me show you." This process will continue until the person gives up and walks away (because Duncan NEVER gives up), and sometimes Duncan's ball has already begun to travel back into the hallway. Duncan will not get up to get his ball. I guess he just thinks of this as "fishing". I guess Duncan figures that someone else will be down the hall shortly enough, will notice the ball and will see Duncan, and the training will continue.
The thing I've noticed is that, almost universally, each person who notices Duncan and his ball will take a second or two to do the "roll and return" with him. At every level - senior management, reception staff, visitors, security guards, interview candidates - it makes no difference to Duncan who you are, what your title is, what shoes you're wearing ... if you notice him, he will roll you the ball.
I guess I find "Duncan training" so interesting because humans are so universally DIFFERENT. Of the 300+ people that are in my building on any given day, finding similar traits would be nearly impossible. Yet each of us know exactly what to do when we see that red ball rolling down the hallway.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Happy Medium
Feast or famine. Joyful or Sad. Open or closed. Busy or peaceful. Quiet or crazy.
I wonder how much energy the average human adult (if there IS such a thing) spends trying to create balance in their lives. We toil away at our jobs so as to afford vacations. We drive like demons to get further into traffic to get home so we can rest. We create projects or start on tasks that we hope will make our homes, or our systems, or our accounts, run more efficiently and never really notice when they are in place because we're working on the next task or project.
And, ironically, by the time we're REALLY ready to enjoy the fruits of our labors (no matter if it is a the end of a day, week, year or retirement age), we're too damn tired to look around and say "wow - this is nice".
I had a mini-experience like that recently. I've had an off-and-on migraine for a couple o' days and, each time the "fog" lifted, I did as much as I could because I knew I was on borrowed time. And boy, did I have things to celebrate, thanks to The Awesome Boyfriend. Incredible reservations at an amazing place in a favorite city on what promises to be an unimaginably fun weekend ... and it was all I could do to say "wow that's great, Sweetheart. Can you bring me an icepack?"
So today, before my day started to get moving, I got us great seats on the right flights at a darn nice fare. It feels GREAT to be part of this process ... to participate in the planning more than just saying "what day is that again? Where is this place? What kinda dress code?"
And the bonus in this all ... the cherry on the sundae ... is that we'll likely have time to stop into a few favorite places of mine, visit a few new soon-to-be favorite places of ours, meet with old/new friends and share new/old stories ...
Memorial Day/Weekend never seemed so far away. I'm gonna work like hell so I can hurry up and enjoy it.
I wonder how much energy the average human adult (if there IS such a thing) spends trying to create balance in their lives. We toil away at our jobs so as to afford vacations. We drive like demons to get further into traffic to get home so we can rest. We create projects or start on tasks that we hope will make our homes, or our systems, or our accounts, run more efficiently and never really notice when they are in place because we're working on the next task or project.
And, ironically, by the time we're REALLY ready to enjoy the fruits of our labors (no matter if it is a the end of a day, week, year or retirement age), we're too damn tired to look around and say "wow - this is nice".
I had a mini-experience like that recently. I've had an off-and-on migraine for a couple o' days and, each time the "fog" lifted, I did as much as I could because I knew I was on borrowed time. And boy, did I have things to celebrate, thanks to The Awesome Boyfriend. Incredible reservations at an amazing place in a favorite city on what promises to be an unimaginably fun weekend ... and it was all I could do to say "wow that's great, Sweetheart. Can you bring me an icepack?"
So today, before my day started to get moving, I got us great seats on the right flights at a darn nice fare. It feels GREAT to be part of this process ... to participate in the planning more than just saying "what day is that again? Where is this place? What kinda dress code?"
And the bonus in this all ... the cherry on the sundae ... is that we'll likely have time to stop into a few favorite places of mine, visit a few new soon-to-be favorite places of ours, meet with old/new friends and share new/old stories ...
Memorial Day/Weekend never seemed so far away. I'm gonna work like hell so I can hurry up and enjoy it.
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