"That's a value judgment. You've got nothing but feelings to support it."
"That's a statement of fact," she said with a little anger.
"I'll tell you hard, true, and indisputably: I couldn't get more than a ten-percent effort out of my dogs without a food reward. That's bedrock biology, baby, and there's no way around it."
"If you'd look further than the door of your own little closet you'd realize you don't spend enough time with any one dog to build more of a relationship than you have with the cashier at a drugstore. And without food why else would a dog try to run a maze or differentiate between a triangle and a circle? Those are as unnatural and meaningless to him as a Rembrandt."
"You really are bullheaded, you know? Just because you're good at one end of a leash, you decide you're an expert. What do you really know about the canine nature, huh? I mean where did you put in your graduate work, or even undergraduate for that matter?"
"At one end of a leash, you donkey." She threw down her napkin and stood up. "And if you scientists would spend a little time at the same place, or even bother living with a dog, you could cut the budget in half and learn more in five months than you have in five years." She turned and marched off.
Ron looked after her. Unhappiness descended over him like the shadow of a swift cloud. He was supposed to take her to a movie after work.
She'd still go, probably, but it was clear that tonight was not the night she would turn back the covers for him.
KING'S INDIAN-KARLA VOM HANCKSCHLOSS
Alpha Litter Summary prepared by Leonard Atwood Of the seven pups in this litter, one male was lost at age fifteen weeks and remains unaccounted for, one male and one female were euthanized at thirty two weeks, one female at forty weeks, and one male at fifty-two weeks. The remaining male and female were retained for breeding and further observation, named respectively Hector and Benny's Baby.
The litter was physically sound, with a few minor conformation flaws.
Sensory perception was good, with scent ability above normal.
Intelligence average to somewhat above. Alertness and stress tolerance exceptionally high, curiosity above average. This was a uniformly bold and independent litter, the major goal of this breeding. However, there was disappointing instability in temperament. In the opinion of most who worked with this litter (and I concur) this instability did not derive from character flaw, but rather was the manifestation of a certain indifference to human beings, as if the handlers were simply another part of the environment instead of the focal point.
Responsiveness to humans-play and willingness to train-was inconsistent and appeared primarily determined by the mood or desires of the dogs.
Handler approval and affection were not of special significance to them.
Correction for misbehavior had minimal effect, food rewards were enjoyed but would not motivate them with reliability. Standard obedience work was mastered, but not enjoyed, and the animals were frequently resistant, sometimes strenuously. The dogs were strongly assertive and capable of large aggression, though they generally restrained this.
The breeding was thoroughly successful as regards desired independence.
But the indifference and erratic responsiveness toward humans-possibly correlative with heightened autonomy, especially when viewed against the dogs' preference for activity and relationship with their litter mates and other dogs-is an atavistic personality trait and definitely contraindicated in our program. There was some difference, but not appreciable, between the four pups who were fully socialized and the three who received diminished socialization. Both Hector and Benny's Baby are from the former group. These two dogs should be bred with an eye toward retaining their autonomy, but counter weighting it with increased responsiveness.
Playing with the pups was the part Toby liked best. They were removed from their dams to individual kennel runs at seven weeks. Seven to sixteen weeks was the critical socialization period. It was the time of greatest emotional and psychological sensitivity, in which a dog formulated the basic attitudes and mental structures that would dictate his behavior patterns through his adult life. Left alone with other dogs, he would always live more harmoniously with dogs than people.
Removed from his litter mates but inadequately socialized, he would never be fully compatible with either humans or dogs.
Behavior Development's canine population varied between 150 and 200 animals, and there were usually two or three litters undergoing socialization. Toby spent most his afternoons with these pups, taking them one or two at a time to a large play cage where he stroked and scratched them and rolled them over and tickled their bellies, played tug-of-war with pull-rings, tossed balls and squeak toys for them. He talked pleasantly to them, complimented them, told them who they were, spoke of his life and matters of interest to him, pointed out the shapes of clouds.
Toby was twenty years old. He was spidery, darkhaired, and had a long face with large, soft brown eyes. He was a quiet boy. People confused him, and when he mustered the courage to talk to them, his throat grew thick and words fled his mind like birds scattering at the jump of a cat. He rented a furnished room from a nice widow in town, Mrs. Harris. Her son had been killed in Vietnam and he lived in the boy's old room. He helped her with the heavy housework and kept the yard in trim, and after he'd been there a few months she told him he didn't have to pay rent anymore. He gave her some money each week for food.
He had the run of the house. She cooked, and he ate with her and her daughter. The daughter was homely and overweight.
She'd seduced him shortly after he rented the room and she stole into his bed once or twice a week. She was demanding and she frightened him, but it seemed to work all right, once he'd gotten used to it.
He'd always been comfortable, and happiest, with animals. Any kind. He couldn't understand why other people weren't, and so rarely knew how to deal with one. All you had to do was get close to them, look at their eyes and the way they held their bodies, and relax, and then you'd begin to feel what they were feeling, not exactly, because it was always fuzzy, like fog swirling in a forest, but enough to know what to do, and then you did it, slowly and with care, changing as you felt them change, and then they would understand you, and you could get along and do whatever it was you had to do together. It was best with dogs. Clearer than with any other kind. Often he could actually talk with them. Not in words, more like shifting weights, with his hands on them, their touch in some blackness of his mind, but talking, and they understood one another. Sometimes the understanding was simply that they wouldn't transgress upon each other's rights, but that was as good and deep as anything else.
Toby had wanted to be a veterinarian. He'd spent five years getting through high school, and even then it baffled him what the schooling had been about, and none of the veterinary schools he applied to accepted him. His counselor finally managed conditional entrance to one in New Hampshire, but he couldn't read the books and the school had dropped him after one semester. He came back home and felt lucky to get a job with BDI cleaning kennels. A supervisor spotted his talents early. They put him to working with pups, and Toby was happier than he'd ever thought he would be. In little time he came to know, at least in passing, every dog on the grounds, and they were all, in a way, his. He loved especially the big finale named King's Indian. Everyone was fond of Indian, even the people who disliked dogs, and there were some at Behavior Development. Indian was big and handsome, a tough, cordial, intelligent animal with buoyant spirits. He excelled in no single way but was rock-solid through the spectrum of desirable traits, and a stud of unusual dominance. He rarely blunted a bitch's strengths in their progeny, and was highly effective in correcting her faults. He hadn't accounted for any dramatic leaps in BDI's dogs, but he'd contributed inordinately to their slow and steady improvement and was used more frequently than any other stud.