Wednesday, May 25, 2016

A Calm Team

    A friend recently asked me how to train your team to be calm. I thought it'd be a great blog post as I needed some time to think about how to explain it. A better description would be a well-mannered team.

    As I think back over the teams I've run over the years, the most enjoyable ones have been those from the last couple years - since Alaska, in fact. The transformation happened almost imperceptibly. The first time I'd ever heard the concept of a calm team was when Nancy Yoshida, from whom I obtained dogs in 2010, mentioned that Aaron Burmeister's dogs aren't allowed to jump and bark at hook up. While this is not entirely true, it's sure close to the truth if you compare his team to what I was used to before going up to handle. The second time it came up was when Leila ran with me and mentioned how surprised she was that the string of yearlings stopped upon command.

   So how do you condition a team to be well-mannered? I'm sure there's a lot of different approaches, but the following is what I've done.

    The first shift is the outlook on running a team. In Alaska I ran dogs almost every day and the back of a dog sled really felt like home. When you know you're going to run dogs day in and day out you relax. You get comfortable with the dogs and comfortable riding a sled. You also realize that if you're going to be running these dogs so much, they need to behave - you rely on them to take you miles into the wilderness and back. You can have fun and not be hurried, but they'd better mind and stay focused on the job at hand. For example, just harnessing, booting and coating dogs is really tedious if they're leaping around and barking. The dogs really figure it out themselves - they learn to wait patiently, thought they're as excited as any dog out there.

    A lot of manners are taught at puppy hood. I've always made a point to spend a lot of time with my puppies - touching them (especially feet), rolling them on their backs, playing with them and taking them on loose walks. They learn to come when called (albeit, some better than others!) and to behave around people (no biting and chewing). With the Robin Hood litter,I'd sit out with them until they would all curl up around and on my lap to go to sleep - by far the calmest littler I've had so far!
   I often wonder if  the general "craziness" of sled dogs is because they are so eager for attention and willing to please. Based on the kennel size, the amount of attention time per dog is limited - it's not good or bad, it's just a fact (although it is an argument for a small kennel). Making a conscious effort to pet each dog every day takes time, but the benefit is huge. If the dog is willing, I train them to jump on their houses for petting (and, later, harnessing) - but not every dog...some just really prefer to keep all four paws on the ground unless they're leaping in harness!

    Harness breaking is a key point for training manners. Although I used to harness break pups between 4-6 months old, I've come to the conclusion it's better to wait (we'll get into this another time). The more mature and larger puppies fit the harness and gangline better, making it easier to work with. My kennel is set up so the puppies watch me run the team quite often - even before they are chained out. When I hook them up for the first time, I place each puppy next to a reliable adult (carefully chosen based on the puppy) and we go slow...for a half mile run. We do this 2-3 times and then go a mile 2-3 times and then go 2 miles and so on. Never fast. The puppies learn to work hard. They learn it's fun because they're never put in a position to fail. If they get tangled, they can usually work it out - rather than getting dragged along at a lope. I also don't put puppies or yearlings in lead until they have a season under their belts (something else I can get into in more detail at another time). By the time they run in lead for the first time, they are thoroughly comfortable with running in the team.

    I can't stress enough how much the dogs (of all ages) learn from reliable, well-mannered teammates. Everything I do with the dogs surrounding hooking up for a run, is geared to be efficient. This means that I let the dogs loose to load them in the dog box to go to the trail. The dogs learn to come. They can run around, but if they want to get to the trail, they'd better come and get into the truck! At the trail head I loose drop some dogs, but other's I drop directly onto the gangline. The dogs learn to relax (and not to chew) lines and harnesses because I go methodically through the string with harnesses and booties - chewing and barking won't get us out on the trail any faster. Many learn to lay down and wait for their turn. But when I start clipping tuglines, the dogs start to bark and jump.
    One of my greatest fears is having the snowhook popped. Perhaps the greatest lesson I learned in Alaska was of respect. The bond between a musher and dogs is one of respect and trust. The dogs must respect your word and obey it - it could get you out of (or in) trouble. The first step is at hook up, for every run. Once the dogs are harnessed and tuglines hooked up, I go back to the sled (or 4-wheeler) and put on my jacket. I might sit there for a minute, but before we move an inch I as, "Are you ready?" The dogs respond with added eagerness but still we don't move. This is their cue to get ready - if we are out on the trail for a quick snack or water break, they relax until I give them the command to go: "alright."
    It's frustrating to have bad snow conditions and stop multiple times after the team drags the sled at "are you ready" but the lesson is soon learned. By the end of December, the dogs know to "take a break" until I get on the sled, pull the hook, ask "are you ready" and then give the cue to go. "Take a break" is another command I use. If I'm off the sled/4-wheeler and untangling a dog or maybe fixing runner plastic, I tell them to "take a break." If they get rowdy while I'm working, I keep telling them to "take a break." It eventually sinks in.
    I recall reading in a lot of sled dog books that sled dogs don't know "Whoa." Well, mine do. This is something taught along with the other commands from day one. Before they know "Gee," "Haw," or "Come Haw," they know "Whoa." Every time we stop, I say "Whoa" and every time I say "Whoa" we stop. Because I prefer a slower, steady team for distance, we don't stop often or for very long at any point in training. By late November the dogs are usually quite happy for a break - they slack off when I say "Whoa."
   
    Reviewing the above, I don't think I really do things much differently than other distance mushers - it's certainly nothing original - but it's worked for me and made for a much more enjoyable team. And at the end of the day, running a well-mannered team is not only more enjoyable, but a necessary safety precaution for those of us who run alone.

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