The Biscuit Jar

       Working for a biscuit? Since their meal was not yet on schedule the wily dogs knew that if they howl they get something to eat. 

 
      My dogs, having been exposed to my dog agility sports, don't know anything else but how to jump and run. Even Packy, our assertive little Dachshund, though banned from this kind of sport because of the breed’s long spine, can do the contact equipment like the seesaw, tunnels, and dog ramp.
      They don’t know any tricks, not even the simple “Shake hands” which any layman expects a dog to know.

      But I wanted my dogs to do more than shake hands. I wanted them to sing -- to howl.
     When we were children and the church behind our house would toll their bells at dusk, our dogs would raise their necks and howl in a chorus. They would create such a racket but we would be so amused. Good thing the neighbors never complained! But this went on for several doggy “generations,” as the new batch was taught by the previous batch until the howling passed on from group to group.
     One day the bells stopped tolling and that stopped the howling. Many decades passed and the church stopped the Angelus (and Christmas eve/Easter) ritual.. So did the dogs. The newcomers ceased to “inherit” any lessons/rituals from their elders.

      Now here I am, an adult, now understanding of the canine ways. I wanted to train the dogs to howl on command.

      I used to see Jonathan slap Spot’s snout to make him yelp, then get praised for making that noise. He would explain that was how it starts. But I was learning better.

      When I was at Ocean Adventure at Subic Bay covering it as a writer for a magazine, I interviewed one of the young trainers there. When asked how they train the seals and dolphins they  said, “We watch them play then when they do something right we blow the whistle and coax them to come for their reward.”

    Huh? Easier said than done, of course. I’m sure there were many steps in-between not mentioned anymore.

      In other words, the action has to come from the dog first. You can’t make a dog howl just like that. Even with all the face slapping exercises in the world.

      One day I noticed that Packy would howl whenever the ice cream cart passed by. The cart had a tooting melody that would play every time it came down the road and Packy would howl at that.

      That was the opportunity I was waiting for. Grabbing a treat, I immediately praised the dog for his action and gave him a biscuit. Thus the concept of the biscuit jar was born.

                                                 Abuse of the Biscuit Jar

     The biscuit jar has to be immediately accessible and always filled. It cannot be in one of  the rooms upstairs in the house when Packy howls. The reward should follow immediately after the howl, not several minutes later or the meaning to the dog will be lost.

       Good thing the ice cream cart passed twice a day, so with the consistent results he was getting whenever he howled, Packy quickly learned he gets a biscuit every time he howls. Ice cream cart melody + howl = biscuit reward. 

      Soon, I tried to shift that action to my command by telling the dog to “Sing” while the cart was passing by, biscuit in hand. Packy’s eyes would look to the side where the cart was passing outside, to the biscuit, my hand signal to “sing,” then he would let loose his vocal talent.

      One day, as my hand dipped in the biscuit jar, Packy ran to the sound of the shuffling treats and looked up at me. I was anticipating this. I commanded the dog to “Sing.” Packy gathered himself together and started to howl – and no ice cream cart was passing!

      Naturally, a reward from his happy owner.

     But I was not anticipating the consequences of my action. Toby, our other Dalmatian, had been watching from the sidelines all the time noticing all this and the formula: Packy howls and Packy gets a reward.

     One day, as the ice cream cart passed and Packy ran outside to howl at the melody,  he suddenly had a backup singer: Toby. Toby ran downstairs also, then before the gate stretched his neck to the high heavens and let loose a long sky-dropping howl until you could almost see his arteries come out. After Packy finished, he ran upstairs to get his biscuit, Toby in tow. Both dogs got their reward.

    But Toby’s cue was different. His cue was Packy’s voice, not the “Sing” command. Once I tried to command Toby to sing but he kept his mouth shut, eyes at Packy. He follows only Packy.

     Soon the dogs were overdoing it. They would howl at anything with a sound that passes by: from the familiar ice cream cart to the various food vendors with their musical horns. Sometimes when the maid is out to the market and they’re sitting by the gate waiting for her, Packy would start a howl to call for her and Toby would back-up.

Packy and his back-up singer.

     We were overdoing it too. We were so amused at their antics that they’d be rewarded every time they howled – at anything. So that was our fault now.We were allowing the dogs to train us. And like doting, spoiling parents (again?) -- we were allowing it.

     One day, they just howled from out of the blue. There was no singing food cart, the maid was home, nothing was passing by. It seems their minds were following the formula -- backwards. They were hungry. Their meal was still an hour away.  But the wily dogs knew that if they howl -- they get something to eat. So they howled. 

      After their chorus, they ran inside the house towards the kitchen counter where the biscuit jar was. They got their biscuit. How manipulative!

      One day though, I saw my ultimate goal. The church, now a cathedral, revived its old bells and began to ring again. “Rapper singer” Packy lifted his voice to howl long and high, did some rapping in between, then raised his voice to higher levels. On cue, Toby followed, neck stretched to the limit, snout pointed to the heavens and howled too, his only exercise probably for that day.

      Finally when the bells slowed their earth-shaking sound, the dogs slowed down just as well, then when they stopped ran upstairs for their biscuit reward.

      They got it.