Screaming is not a training tool

IT’S THE early evening, time to start feeding the zoo. They’re unusually quiet, though, listening to the noise outside. Only my poodle Wan-Wan is making low whines.

Mee, the part-chow from next door, has escaped, or perhaps she’s pulled her leash out of the hands of her owner Khun J. At any rate, the dog is running playfully up and down our short soi, encouraging the dogs in other patios to yip and bark in warning.

Even louder than all the canine noise are the screams of J herself. “Mee!” she yells, “come here! Get into the house! You naughty, naughty dog!”

Mee, of course, doesn’t listen. She’s having too much fun. In addition, she loves to run, which she can’t do when J is walking her on the leash. J doesn’t run; she walks sedately.

The dog runs from one end of the soi to the other, with her leash dragging behind. J manages to grab it, but Mee is too strong, and the leash slips out of her hands.

J is tiny, but her lungs must be massive. Her yells and screams don’t stop until Mee, finally tired out from her run, decides to return home all by herself.

Instead of being happy that she doesn’t have to chase her dog anymore, J is quite angry. I can hear her yelling at her dog for being so disobedient. Mee, who listens to her owner only when she’s interested, pays no attention. She knows, I think, that her evening meal is on its way, no matter how angry J is.

As J settles down, my gang turn to me for their meal, everyone except Wan. She waits in our patio until she’s sure Mee has returned home.

I’m constantly surprised when owners yell at their pets. Speaking in an authoritative voice is one thing; screaming as loudly as you can is quite another, it seems to me.

Dogs’ hearing is much more sensitive than humans’, as is cats’. They can hear noises quite clearly that we would never notice.

The key, though, is whether they want to hear or not. If they don’t listen when you’re speaking normally, they certainly won’t respond when you’re yelling at them.

When Phantom, my seven-kilo American shorthair cat, starts to attack another cat, I step in between and say loudly, “Phantom! Go to your room now.” And he does.

Timing is everything. If he’s already jumped on the other cat, no command in the world will stop him. Certainly yelling at him is useless. Not even a loud noise or a squirt of water will stop the attack.

I’ve found that putting a strong piece of cardboard between the two fighting cats helps. Pulling a tail is not a good choice. You can cause too many problems in the cat’s spine and tail if you do.

If J wants Mee to stop running from her, she should first try to understand why the dog ran in the first place.

Mee wants to run. She wants to exercise her muscles in ways that a slow walk with her owner doesn’t provide. It’s really up to J to teach Mee to come to her when they’re on the soi. The dog also needs to be taught not to run down other sois, where cars and trucks can injure her or worse, or where children play. There’s nothing as dangerous as a kid who thinks it’s okay to hit an animal – for both the kid and the animal.

This kind of training isn’t easy, but a great deal more productive than yelling at a dog in full enjoyment of a good run.