Dan's Papers - April 3, 2009 - Rhyme Nor Reason

The conflict had escalated to a critical point. Reason was no longer possible. Cajoling failed. Yelling exacerbated the situation. In a last ditch effort, I folded my arms across my chest, turned my back defiantly, stared away with a stern look, and remained silent and still.

It worked. But as soon as I turned around, the bitch bit my hand.

That's where I drew the line. That puppy would have to go.

Several months ago, my partner and I got a puppy that turned out to be surprisingly aggressive. Because we have a young son, we committed to following every suggestion on how to nip that behavior pattern in the bud. The strategy outlined above came from the book, How to Raise a Puppy You Can Live With, and eventually helped a little. We also consulted with trainers, vets, and other books, including Dog Training for Dummies.

As I read some of the suggestions it occurred to me that they just might work with people. After all, we're in a new era of politics, where diplomacy and other more civilized tactics that were ignored for eight years are coming to light once again. Just like we no longer whack a dog on the nose with a newspaper when he does something wrong, our government is no longer getting medieval on countries that may or may not be a threat. As citizens, we can certainly try a new approach, too. And why not dog training techniques?

Last weekend I went to a yard sale and saw a great little retro coffee table. I began negotiating with the seller, but he was as stubborn as a bull dog, repeating what he had paid for it three years ago. I calmly told him this is no longer the height of the market, and he might have to take a loss. The negotiation became impassioned. He got fangy and barked, "What do think I'm selling lady! A Florida condo? Antiques hold their value!"

Well, I turned right around, crossed my arms, let out a little "hmpf," and stared off into space. He was speechless, needless to say.

"Lady?" he growled after a few minutes.

"Do you want the table or not?"

I didn't respond. Just then, a man holding a shih-tzu came over and said, "Excuse me please." I didn't budge.

"Ma'am, may I get by? I'd like to see that lamp."

I would not be moved.

A woman with bug eye glasses marched over and said to the seller, "How much is that rug? Can I see it?" I happened to be standing on it.

"Yes," said the seller, then yipped at me, "Could you move so she can see the rug?"

I remained silent, still, unwavering.

"I'd like to get to that lamp," said the man with the shih-tzu. I only reinforced my position. The dog let out a small whimper.

"Okay, okay," said the seller, with a similar whimper. "You can have the table at your price. Just move, please."

It's great when a plan comes together. Heartened by this, I looked to the pet experts for more suggestions. One source said to never use the dog's name when you're scolding him, since a pup hears his name as a term of endearment.

Anyone who has ever been in a relationship knows that, in the heat of battle, your name can sound like anything but a term of endearment. There are people who, during an argument, tend to REPEAT the other person's name with annoying frequency - like at the end of every sentence. It becomes a punctuation mark. Not a semicolon or comma, but more of a: $!@*!+!*. No, I don't think that recommendation translates to the human beings.

Another tactic I'd shy away from with people is the squirty bottle. Most adults at least really resent attempts at having their behavior controlled by being squirted in the face. Women find this particularly offensive if they hadn't used waterproof mascara. When used to control an aggressive male, it often has just the opposite effect.

But there was a good tip under nuisance barking: look straight into the dog's eyes, hold up your index finger firmly, and in a low but stern voice, state, "No barking. No barking." When I tried this on the puppy, she became so confused that she did in fact stop.

Last Tuesday, one of my freelancers came in, complaining about the edits I made to a story. It was a stressful deadline day and we in editorial were near the end of our knotted ropes. I tried to convey to him that this wasn't the best time to discuss something that happened three weeks prior, but he had the tenacity of a pitbull. I tried ignoring him. He didn't get the hint, and failed to read other nonverbal cues, like my walking out of the room, taking phone calls, and singing a few verses of "Row Row Row Your Boat." So I looked him square in eyes, help up my index finger stiffly, and in a low but stern voice, stated "No bitching. No bitching."

It worked! He gave me the same wide-eyed stare I'd gotten from the puppy, and walked out.

This new conflict resolution strategy really works. The techniques should be presented on Oprah, or in manuals for diplomats and foreign ambassadors. I wonder what the world would be like today if only Rumsfeld had these tools...