Let Them Be Wrong

Tonight, I had a breakthrough in training my dog, Salem, to master the 'shake' command, a trick I’ve been eager to teach her. Given her intelligent Border Collie nature, I was confident she'd pick it up quickly, but I had been struggling for a couple of weeks. After a period of focused training, I had a realization, which helped her grasp the trick in just 15 minutes. The principle I applied is one I use routinely in horse training, and it served as a great reminder that sometimes in frustrating moments you must take a step back and reanalyze the situation.

The principle I realized is a combination of two things. First, when teaching something, whether it be a dog or a horse, you have to allow them to find the correct answer on their own. If you do the task for them, they will not understand what you have asked of them, and therefore will not learn.

For example, when I was trying to teach Salem 'shake', I would state the word, pick up her paw and shake it, and then reward. Of course, she was not learning the trick. In her head, all she needed to do was sit and stare at me for a moment while I did something with her paw and then she would get her treat. That is what I had taught her.

It’s easy to fall into this trap. You want them to do the task and think that doing it for them will show them how it’s done. However, the real progress is made when you allow them to be wrong. The progress I made with Salem was when I finally stopped rewarding for doing nothing. Instead, I held the treat, said shake, then waited.

• After 30 seconds, she started whining.

• After a minute, she sniffed the floor.

• After two minutes, she had laid down, turned around, lifted the wrong paw, and rolled over.

• Then, finally, she lifted the correct paw.
  

I immediately rewarded, giving her the treat, then tried again. After a few times, she knew what she was doing and mastered the trick.

See, the moment of learning came when she had the wrong answers. She wanted the treat and knew that something had to be done to get it, so she started trying things. When those things didn’t work, she tried more things. Then, when she found the right answer, she got her treat, and she learned the trick. Note, however, that she was not punished for the wrong answer. When she did the wrong thing, there was not a “no”; it was simply silence and lack of reward.

It is the same when training a horse. Allow them to be wrong, and reward the right. Not only will they learn, but they will develop trust and relationship with the one doing the rewarding. And, given that they have, in a way, taught themselves, they will be happier and more eager to learn.

Now, as I mentioned, this principle has two parts. The second part is what I call 'rewarding the try.' Let’s go back to Salem. The first time she gave me her paw was not perfect. You could barely call it a shake. She was almost laying down and just barely lifted the paw off the floor, presumably to sniff under it looking for treats. However, she tried, and that has to be rewarded. From there she learned, rather quickly, what she was being rewarded for.

Again, this is the same principle to be used with horses. When training something new, it will not be perfect the first time. Or the second or the third. But you must reward the try, slowly asking for closer to perfection over time, until it is finally reached.

This is why my motto is 'training for trust, performance, and partnership.' The three go hand in hand, because as you establish trust you build a partnership, and when you build a partnership, performance follows. Mix these core principles with some time and patience, and you can create an incredible equine team.

Enjoy a picture of my pup, Salem, while I go give her more treats for being so stinking cute!

Salem sporting her Christmas bandana.

Alaina