To Tyson

Last week I cried as a sweet, peaceful, loving dog stopped breathing in my arms. Then I cried tears of joy, as I watched him come back to life.

I'd traveled that day to Sheepshead Bay to work with a Presa Canario named Tyson. I approached this meeting cautiously: this "Canary" strain of Mastiff is notoriously one of the biggest and strongest; Tyson himself had had no prior training, and was unneutered. Add his cropped "fighting" ears to the picture and you've got one pretty reliable mugging-deterrant: I don't think the owner, Casey, has much to worry about walking with her pal through the city! As I often do for such sessions, I had the owner meet me outside with the dog on a leash in neutral territory. As soon as we started walking side-by-side, however, I saw instantly what a giant sweetie Tyson was. I took the leash, and as we walked he sniffed me and I rubbed his scruff. After a few attempts to dominantly mount my leg (I stepped forward, then rewarded him when he backed off and sat calmly and submissively), we gained a nice balance of trust and respect, and went off to work.

Tyson and Casey

Tyson was a super-quick learner! We practiced loose-leash walking; then passing, pack-walking near, and calmly meeting other dogs; then basic obedience and patience exercises like "place", down/stay, and release around city distractions. After a good 20 minute walk to a much more isolated section of the bay, we entered a tennis court to practice offleash heeling and recall ("come"). We practiced a joyous "fetch" routine: throw the ball, he runs and grabs it, "Come Tyson!", he comes running, "Drop it!", treat/praise/pet...repeat. Exhausting, fulfilling, fun, bonding and educational leadership: what could be better? All three of us were panting and smiling. I told Casey to continue while I sat on the sidelines and wrote a list of homework exercises for her to practice after I left.

After a minute I heard Casey shout, "What do I do?" I looked up and saw Tyson with his jaw wide open, looking like he was trying to cough. I jumped up and ran over, looked inside his mouth and saw the ball, halfway down Tyson's throat. I reached in, but between Tyson's bite reflex and the distance the ball had descended, I couldn't grab hold. He was retching more violently now, starting to foam at the mouth, walking backward as if trying to walk away from the ball. We were at least a half a mile from cars or other people, so there was no time to get him help. We had to help him right then and there. I grabbed all 114 pounds of him and did the doggy-Heimlich from two different positions. Both were, as I feared, ineffective, as Tyson was just too heavy and the ball was too firmly wedged.

When I set him down, he collapsed onto his side. His eyes were bulging. I tried to dislodge the ball - but have you ever tried to grab something out of the sink or from under the couch, and when you make a fist to pull it out, your hand won't fit back out? I knew we had minutes to spare, at most. Time stood still. I was sweating, praying, and, though I hadn't realized it, I was bleeding fairly seriously as a result of one of Tyson's bites. Casey was weeping: "I think he's dead!" He had evacuated his bowels, and hadn't breathed for minutes. He'd stopped biting me. His eyes stared straight ahead, straight into mine, mere inches away.

I started doing "mouth-to-snout" resuscitation, filling my lungs and then Tyson's, again and again. It gave me hope to see his chest swell as I tried to breathe my life into him. I would do three deep breaths, then chest compressions; then dig again at the ball, from inside as well as pressing on his throat from the outside, trying to squeeze the ball out like toothpaste from a tube. Deep breath; mouth-to-nose; chest compressions; dig and squeeze. After what was probably another minute, but seemed like an hour, the ball rolled...and popped loose. But Tyson still lay motionless. I pulled his tongue from his throat, making sure the airway was clear, and kept doing the CPR. Deep breath. Blow. Compressions. Please, please give me a sign. Breathe. Move. Anything.

I thought I saw an eyelid blink. Can blinking be a reflex, I wondered? Can you blink if you're dead? I kept working - and then saw both eyes blink. I paused, felt Tyson's nose. I felt a shallow breath of warm air on my frozen fingers. It was the most beautiful breath I've ever felt. I held my own breath, waiting to feel it again. He coughed, and let out an even bigger, fuller breath. And another. I sat back on my heels, let out my own breath; the world rushed into my senses again; I remembered where I was. Tyson was still too tired to lift his head. But his eyes peered around, searching for his mommy; finding her, and relaxing back in comfort. My eyes found Casey's as well: too much emotion to speak. We sat there in the gently falling snow for a few minutes, on opposite sides of Tyson's head, hunching over it as if kindling a fire. All three of us panting; two of us wiping our eyes, smiling from the pure release of stress, petting and talking nonsense in low tones to the dog.

"How's it going boy?" I asked, and scrubbed Tyson's chin. He sat up. Those eyes still staring into mine, as they'd been the whole time, he gave me a big, wet, sloppy kiss, right on the lips. Testing him, I got to my feet, and he followed. After a few wobbly steps he seemed right back to his goofy self. We knew he was okay when he bristled up at a passing dog, and pulled on the leash to chase a few birds. I walked Casey and Tyson home; and though it was difficult for me to say goodbye after all that had happened, Casey promised to take Tyson to the vet asap and I headed to the ER myself.

I got the typical antibiotics and a few stitches in my hand; one of Tyson's involuntary bites had severed some nerves in one of my fingers, but after some investigation the doctors determined there was no damage to the tendons. I'm not a stranger to the ER for dog bites, but this is the first time it had been for a good, positive, heartwarming reason. The doctors spread the story around the ER. "It's not often we hear a happy ending like that in here," said one. Casey thoughtfully texted me later to check up on me; then again the next day to say that the vet had given Tyson a clean bill of health.

Balls are similar size...

...but only one is squishy.

There are two big lessons I'm taking away from the day, that I want to spread here in case they help anyone avoid such a situation in the future. First of all, avoid playing with balls that can fit down the throat. We hear lots about the dangers of rawhides and chews, but balls and toys can be just as dangerous. And it may make things worse if the ball or toy is incompressible. The combination of not-quite-swallowable and too-rigid can create a perfect storm of Fetch. Even when using the common tennis ball, take care when playing with dogs with large heads, throats, or appetites.

The second lesson I want to impart is how important it is to read, learn, and practice CPR. Just reading the basics, even once, will leave something in the back of your mind that someday - hopefully never, but you never know - might help you save a life. For the basics, look for "CPR" or "emergency care" on any reliable website like ASPCA.org or petmd.com. In my hometown you can attend seminars and workshops on pet CPR offered by Brooklyn Bark dog walkers.

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After my stitches come out, the scar fades, and the numbness in my finger becomes second nature, I'll still think of you Tyson. I'm going to remember that day, and those eyes, for a long, long time.

To Tyson

Silly Or Anxious? Dog Emotions And Viral Videos

Quite frequently, when someone shows me a "cute" animal video or photo on YouTube or Facebook, I don't react appropriately. Sometimes the clips or shots are funny, but often I interpret a sadder, more anxious, or more aggressive emotion beneath the surface.

This was certainly the case with the viral "guilty dog video". Same for many "smiling dog" clips and pics. I know nobody really thinks this is a "kiss" between the dog and dolphin, but what IS going on? I don't have the answer; but I don't know that it's any cuter than it is nervewracking. Moving entirely to other species, I was not at all convinced that this lion was trying to "hug" the human (what if the cage hadn't been there?)

Speaking of giant cats, if you saw Life Of Pi you probably remember Pi's father warning that "When you look into [an animal's] eyes, you see only your own emotions reflected back at you." Yet our visual reads of emotions, thoughts, and states of mind have to be mostly right most of the time, since that's the main way that we understand not only our dogs but also other members of our own species. Which begs the question: How can we know when our reads of another's underlying emotions based on physical, observable cues are correct, versus when they're mere wishful (or fearful) thinking - the product of us projecting our own emotions onto the subject?

I'll end by linking the photo gallery that inspired me to write this post. At the risk of asking an overly serious question about a gallery intended to be silly and lighthearted: In which photos are the dogs actually thinking or feeling something along the lines of what it looks like? Some are actually appropriately described, I think. Others, obviously, not so much; but for a curious variety of reasons. To my mind, it's good stuff to ponder, in an effort to better understand our dogs.

The Difference Between Aggressive and Assertive

In New York Magazine's blurb about Calm Energy Dog Training - under "Best Dog Trainer" in their "Best Of New York 2013" issue - they write

"Newman's approach [is to] reconcile being calm and aggressive at once."

If you know something about dog training, you can probably guess that I never said this. No doubt they were picking up on the phrase "calm and assertive" (not "aggressive") that I must have repeated several times during my interview.

No hard feelings - I know reporters are under deadlines, overloaded with projects, and often writing about fields in which they aren't themselves experts. But I wanted to clarify here that I do NOT encourage being, or ever try to be, aggressive with dogs. Assertive, yes; aggressive, no.

So what's the difference? What is "calm and assertive energy" anyway?

The famous phrase was coined by Cesar Millan, in his attempt to describe the proper energy and attitude of a good pack leader. I very much like the phrase "calm assertive energy", particularly the "calm" part: that's where I drew the name of my company from, Calm Energy Dog Training. Calmness is incompatible with many unbalanced and antisocial mental and emotional states: it is very difficult to be the way NYMag says I encourage being, namely both calm and aggressive at the same time. The same goes for being simultaneously calm and hyperactive, calm and anxious, calm and fearful, calm and mistrusting, calm and demanding, calm and impatient... and so on.

"Assertive" is less clear than "calm", and unfortunately assertiveness is often conflated with aggressiveness and other similar notions. Aggression connotes meanness, violence; an attempt to harm or intimidate. In sports, being the aggressor means trying to actively win, as opposed to simply keeping your opponent from winning. In a court of law, being the aggressor means being the one who started the fight, threw the first blow, drew first blood. Assertiveness implies none of these things - being violent, scary, hurtful, trying to win, starting a fight. In contrast, I think of "assertiveness" in the sense Millan means it as being a leader instead of a follower. Providing directions, showing the way, instead of being a sheep; being positively active instead of negatively reactive. In fact, because "assertive" often carries connotations of aggression, I prefer to say "calm leadership" instead of "calm and assertive".

At my cousin's recent Bat Mitzvah, the Rabbi said he wished for my cousin

".... what we wish for all children: to grow up to be strong, but not violent; gentle, but not weak."

I thought this captured a perfect description of calm assertive energy/calm leadership. Strength does not require violence: you can be both peaceful and strong at the same time, a pacifist who does not get beaten down or give up easily. And gentleness does not imply weakness: you can be gentle, caring, without being a wimp.

And THAT describes the kind of leader that your dog wants you to be.

"Best Dog Trainer" - New York Magazine, March 2013

Extra! Extra!

For all you literate pups out there whom I've had the honor of working with, you can now thank your owners and brag to your friends that your trainer was voted "Best Dog Trainer" by NY Magazine, in their recent "Best Of New York 2013" issue!

(A shout-out to my Cavalier client Leo, who already posted on his Facebook page how proud he is. Heck, I'm proud that a dog I trained can use Facebook!)

I am honored and humbled by the title "Best Dog Trainer", as there are many excellent trainers in New York. My particular skill and experience lies in helping city dog owners teach their pets be calmer, happier, and more social. I see NY Mag's vote as a sign that I've helped hundreds of dogs and owners live happier lives together over the past several years.

I look forward to spreading even more calm energy in 2014.

Why Is My Dog Racist?

It's a phenomenon that people try to sweep under the rug, laugh off, or simply pretend isn't happening; then it gets whispered about in embarrassed tones afterward. Namely: your dog gets along just fine with other dogs, mailmen, skateboarders...then barks and lunges quite obviously at black or darker-skinned people. "My dog is racist!" is the embarrassing admission.

Is it possible for dogs to be racist? If so, why does it happen? And how can we stop it?

Gawker and Huffington Post recently contacted me to comment on this phenomenon. The above video clip from AOL/Huffpost Live is my opinion of the most important lesson to take away; if you've been keeping up with my blog posts you'll notice a similar theme to a lecture I gave recently at a FIDO/Brooklyn Bark seminar. Below are my full written thoughts that I submitted to the Gawker reporter for his article, covering a broader view of possible causes and other questions.

Of course this is a loaded and controversial topic. I welcome all thoughts and opinions, and I'd love to hear yours!

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"Why Is My Dog Racist?"

Anthony Newman, Calm Energy Dog Training

January 2013

THE QUESTION

First let's refine your question: 99% of people who say their dog is "racist" really mean their dog doesn't seem to like some dark-skinned people, e.g. african-american/black. Very few cases of dogs tending to dislike light-skinned people are reported - historically and in the literature, to the limited extent the issue has been researched; as well as in my experience working with over 800 different dog owners. There's even a historical case of an attempt to train army dogs to attack Japanese people, but after repeated efforts the dogs weren't able to reliably distinguish the race.

Why Is My Dog Racist?

WHAT THE DOG IS THINKING

It is helpful to have a clear understanding of what a dog is trying to do when he barks/lunges at people in the way these owners' dogs do: they are trying to protect their pack, primarily their owners but also themselves, from a perceived threat, an outsider. Though no one really knows how exactly dogs began their domestication from wolves, the most plausible and best-evidenced story to my mind is that between 20-40 thousand years ago, wolves developed a symbiotic relationship with nomadic tribes of people: the wolves would guard the perimeter of the campfire, by howling and alerting the people to approaching predators and also scaring them off; and when the tribe picked up and left, the wolves reaped the spoils of leftover food and bones. Nowadays this behavior routinely manifests as barking at doorbells/knocks on the door (the doorbell is associated by experience with a stranger appearing; the dog barks both to alert and to protect), barking/lunging at dogs and other perceived threats that pass too closely on the sidewalk (the sidewalk forces approaching predators (i.e. other dogs) to walk in a straight line toward one another, which is an aggressive act in the canine world. Dogs making friends tend to approach in curved arcs, coming up from behind to sniff the rear end). Relevant to your question, this guarding/protection applies not only to interlopers but also to characters who don't fit in or appear importantly different from the rest of the dog's pack. This is a major reason dogs tend to hate mailmen (they carry big bulky bags), plumbers and workmen (they wear giant boots, clanky tool belts, and scary-looking hardhats). Notice that these differences aren't just noticeable, they're also important from a self-protection/safety perspective: the differences are loud, big, scary, threatening.

Why Is My Dog Racist?

SOME ANSWERS

Which really leads us to the question: Why does it seem, anecdotally at least, that a noticeable number of dogs tend to perceive dark-skinned or black people as importantly different from the rest of their pack? The psychological concept of "mirroring" has been proposed before, and it certainly is a real phenomenon in dogs: mirroring means taking emotional and psychological cues from someone else, and dogs have evolved an amazingly empathetic capacity for this with their human owners. If you are tense, scared, or on edge, your dog will know it in a second - not only from your body language but also by the scent of your adrenaline and sweat - and will take this as a cue that there is something to be scared of. Perhaps the people who report "racist" dogs have similar (unconscious) thoughts of their own; the dog is simply physicalizing an emotion their owners are too civilized or intellectualized to show. Obviously there has been zero research or data to support this theory, but I do know that IF the owners of these dogs tend to notice skin color, their dogs will as well. A second reason, one that I've never seen explored, is that early dogs/domesticated wolves originated in lighter-skinned societies. Conflicting genetic and archaeological evidence suggests that dogs began to be domesticated in Southeast Asia, Europe, and the Middle East. If during the formative times the indigenous peoples of those areas tended to be lighter skinned than african-americans, this might explain some tendency of modern dogs to perceive blacks as outsiders. This second theory, however, is controversial not only because of the speculative geography, but also because if you push the connection between dogs and wolves too far nowadays trainers get all in an uproar. Basically, although dogs were once wolves, the behavioral connections between the two species is hotly disputed and no doubt overemphasized (in particular with respect to "dominance"-related behaviors). Finally, a third undoubtedly relevant reason is that dogs are so visually oriented. Their primary means of communication among one another is by body language; a dog will tell another dog from far away what its mood is, whether it is calm or excited, wary or trusting, and so on by subtle positionings of the ears, tail, head, paws, and mouth. The "black/white" (dark/light) skin color distinction is certainly a visual one; so the fact that dogs can pick up on that while they might leave other racial distinctions aside is fairly predictable.

Why Is My Dog Racist?

CAN IT BE FIXED?

This is the truly important question, and I give it a resounding "Yes!", based on years of experience training dogs out of protective/aggressive behaviors to every kind of perceived threat. The simple (though not necessarily easy) solution is "counterconditioning". I do this every day, with dogs of all shapes sizes breeds and sexes, who are fearful of and protective/aggressive toward men, other dogs, skateboards, plastic bags, buses, subway grates, leashes, veterinarians - you name it. The recipe is as follows:

Why Is My Dog Racist?

1) Don't avoid behavior triggers! Avoidance at the very least postpones the problem (you cross to the other side of the street whenever a fluffy dog appears, or distract your dog by stuffing his mouth with treats until the dog passes); and at worst it reinforces/exacerbates it. Basically, your dog gets tense when it sees/senses the threat; you then make like a prisoner and bust; so the anxiety/protective reaction worked! As far as your dog can tell, his mental/emotional reaction caused the threat to disappear. Be certain he'll rely on it next time as well!

Why Is My Dog Racist?

2) Disallow/correct the disrespectful and mistrusting behavior. A snap; a clap; "Hey!"; "Tsshh!"; blocking with your body; getting in the dog's visual field; backing him up; turning and walking the other way...these can all communicate to your dog that this behavior isn't admissible. A solid foundation in obedience training is essential for a dog to take these cues from his owner, as is consistent leadership - when you walk your dog, you should be the one leading the walk, not him. When he's in front, pulling on the leash, it's his prerogative as well as his responsibility (so the geometry tells him) to decide who is a threat and who isn't. When you're out in front, your dog obediently following, you'll be much more effective at stopping misbehavior before it erupts. Something not often noticed here is that fear behavior - like running away - is equally unacceptable and just as much part of the cause of protective aggression as barking/lunging toward the threat. Fight and flight are two heads of the same coin; neither is balanced, peaceful acceptance; and both should be discouraged.

Why Is My Dog Racist?

3) Make the situation positive. This is the "counter" in "counterconditioning": we're taking a situation the dog is wary or scared of, and turning it into a calm, peaceful, happy, joyous, delicious, and fun experience! Treats are the obvious go-to here; but don't forget verbal praise, bellyrubs, running, playing, and sniffing.

Why Is My Dog Racist?

UPSHOT

The big reason any dogs REMAIN "racist", no matter what initial cause of the behavior, is that not enough time is spent on counterconditioning. This is understandable for a number of reasons, probably top on the list being that most owners don't particularly want to go out and embarrass themselves and anger or annoy complete strangers by going out regularly every day and tracking down dark-skinned people their dog will react to and bark/lunge at. This is much easier when the dog is reactive to buses or skateboards; you're really not going to hurt the bus driver's feelings, or even the skating kids (I've always found them wonderfully helpful!); and our society as a whole doesn't tend to devalue and ostracize buses or skateboards the way we've been know to with melanin-rich citizens.

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

This past few weeks I've had several experiences involving the combination of dogs and fear.

Most of those experiences have involved fearful dogs ...

... and some have involved fear OF dogs.

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

Somewhat unsettlingly, a portion of that recent fear OF some dogs has been my own, not only my clients'.

I'll post about those latter experiences in a bit (once I re-settlle myself). For now it seems like a good time to post the notes from a talk I gave several months ago, at an event hosted by Brooklyn Bark and FIDO, on how to most therapeutically deal with fearful/anxious dogs.

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"Counterconditioning and the Flight Response"

Anthony Newman, Calm Energy Dog Training

FIDO Lecture, Brooklyn
6/14/12

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How many people here own fearful, or anxious dogs?

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• This is an are extremely common issue for dogs in a city environment.
• Also one of my favorite issues to treat, because so many dogs can let go of their fear so quickly, if shown the way.

However, it is often untreated, or treated in my opinion improperly or inadequately. Because in deep anxiety or fear cases:

• Luring w treats won't work - dog thinks "not time for food, daddy!"
• Speaking verbal commands won't work either - can actually stress the dog out more, making them have to weigh a decision between being obedient to their owner's request and the very real presence of the frightening situation or thing in front of them.

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Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

Ultimate goal shared by most trainers: countercondition.

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• Counterconditioning = conditioning the dog "counter" to their expectations.
• They expect something bad to happen, thus the fear and anxiety; but something good happens instead. Treats, bellyrubs, play, run...

But before any of the rewards/positive reinforcement necessary for counterconditioning becomes possible, there's a step that I see as far too widely overlooked:

• You have to stop the so-called "flight response".
• Prevent / preempt / "correct" it.

You've heard of "fight or flight"?

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• A natural and historically advantageous reaction in periods of stress.
• We all know to prevent a dog's fighting, i.e. aggression, because it harms other dogs or us in obvious, bloody ways.
• Yet flight hurts the fearful dog herself just as much! She remains psychologically, emotionally, trapped in a jail of fear.
• Even simply jumping, or pulling against the leash, counts in the relevant sense as flight behavior. As long as your dog is trying to get away.

Reason: flight/fear behavior is what I call "self-reinforcing".

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• Dogs that are allowed to consistently react fearfully will begin to rely on the fear behavior
• They think it helped them, kept them safe.

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Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

Examples.

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

Visitors: How many houses do I ring the doorbell of, and the dog is hiding when I arrive - under the kitchen table, or behind the couch.

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• This dog IS going to get treats, pets ... they ARE going to end up liking me, and I am eventually going to leave. These are all rewards. So if don’t go back and eliminate that flight behavior, the dog will think Thank God I did that! It was needed; rewarded, thus reinforced.
• So first thing I do: go back outside, have owner leash the dog; then I re-enter, crouch and turn away non-confrontationally, so the dog can sniff me.
• I get to try a little bellyrub, offer chicken ... we're off the the races.
• Leash as an indoor tool, to stop flight and condition leadership. Can be latched to belt loop

Spiral staircase: Many recent instances! (Is this a Brooklyn thing? :)

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• Owners have tried luring with treats, calling “come!”; dog retreats. Again the fear will be reinforced.
• Martingale collar is a great tool his, vs other collar-types. Won't slip off the neck of frightened dogs who startle, plant their feet, or try to wriggle out.
• Get momentum, lead down the first step - then home free! Dog inevitably after that first step runs down after me, giant praise and biscuit at the bottom, then running back up and down, play with owner.

Rain walking: How many times have I heard "My dog hates the rain!"

• Venture out, dog turns and pulls back inside.
• What did they learn? "Thank God I was able to pull Mommy/Daddy and save them!"
• Tool here is leadership - the walk. Bundle up in rain gear. Head to the park. Make it fun! Ball, frisbee, chicken.

Buses; skateboarders; garbage cans; vicious barking fenced dogs:

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• Be aware which side your pup pulls toward during the
• If their direction is fear-induced (i.e. away from a trigger, not toward), pull back toward / in front of.
• The importance of subtleties, inches. If it's relevant/important in your dog's mind, it's relevant and important even if it seems ridiculous to us!
• E.g.: Fenced yard near my 18th St. dog run; my dogs know when we approach the vicious barking pack lunging against the fence that we're going to slow down, lie down, and get bellyrubs. They look at me like "Oh well here we go again! Daddy you better know what you're doing!" Then big happy release, all run to dog park.

In this last example the dogs learn two important things:

Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

• To relax and be calm, less fearful
• To TRUST their leader. Condition this, then even when they ARE scared (e.g. fireworks, lightning, the vet) they’ll be calmer, more trusting, more relaxed.

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Fight Or Flight? Neither, Please!

There is nothing more beautiful than watching a fearful or previously traumatized dog open up, start sniffing/playing/running acting like a dog should act.

To get there, a crucial but widely overlooked first step is to disallow the flight behavior.

Now it's time for me to flee the stage!


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Hey - I told you these were just notes. But I think the point is important.

The vast majority of so-called "aggression" in dogs is founded in fear. And rejection of the flight behavior is in my experience a vastly underappreciated and misunderstood therapeutic tool in fear cases.

Are Fearful Fido's Faculties Fatigued?

The New York Times recently published a fascinating article on a phenomenon called "decision fatigue". Scientific studies repeatedly back up the fairly commonsensical idea that being forced to make decisions - in particular when the chosen options demand exerting a certain amount of self-control - is an exhausting and stressful process. Making decisions makes us tired - and irritable.

The experiments, results, and implications in our everyday lives are both fascinating and troubling to read about. What struck me, however, was the relevance of decision fatigue to the world of dog training. Certainly, if humans suffer from decision fatigue, no doubt dogs do too; and and three consequences come to my mind.

The first is fairly common knowledge:

Don't overdo training sessions.

It is often said you should work on obedience commands and the like for no more than five or ten minutes at a time, no more than a few times each day. Dogs, much like kids, get tired in class quickly, and can lose focus and become irritable and distracted. If you can't get the dog to succeed, you can't reward him - which means he can't progress.

The second consequence is understood among trainers, yet needs to be paid more attention by many dog owners:

Obedience training is a fulfilling form of exercise.

I always say that physical exercise is just one of three types of exercise dogs need - the other two being social exercise (ever been too exhausted to go to that dinner party?) and mental. Dogs need to work out mentally just much as physically, in order to be relaxed, fulfilled, and emotionally balanced.

The third consequence of decision fatigue has to do in particular with fearful, anxious dogs. This is controversial, but I believe it soundly and I've seen it work miracles in numerous cases. Yet in my experience it is unrecognized by both trainers and dog owners in general:

Anxious/fearful dogs need leadership and assignments.

The idea is simple: if your dog is anxious, stressed, or afraid, putting them in a social position in which they are required to make more, rather than fewer, decisions, will generally do more harm than good. Tiptoeing around fearful dogs can trap them in their own anxiety; while strong, happy leadership can pull them right through, and out the other side.

I'll give three examples of this principle, applied to three common issues I've worked on with dozens of clients.

Leash-aggression
Many dogs that are entirely peaceful and social with other dogs off-leash can act aggressively when ON leash. The combination of causes vary from case to case; but one extremely common underlying feature is fear/anxiety.

When a fearful dog leads your walk, by pulling on the leash in front of you - instead of following on a loose leash behind you - he is in the natural position of the "pack leader" - literally, physically and geometrically the leader of your little social pack. Along with that position comes the role and responsibility of deciding who and what encountered along the way are threats, and who/what are friendly. Add decision-fatigue to a naturally anxious dog and it is unsurprising that more passers-by are deemed threats in this situation than in less stressful ones.

The solution is to keep your leash-aggressive dog behind you, in a follower position instead of leader. Deciding who is a threat, and who isn't, is then your role and responsibility, not your dog's. Not only can you decide differently; your dog will simultaneously become more relaxed as a result of not having to make those decisions in the first place - so when he is put back in that position, he'll tend to be a lot more peaceful.

Separation anxiety
Dogs that are over-attached to their owners - so-called "velcro" dogs - can whine, bark, howl, dig, chew, and even physically harm themselves when their owners leave them alone. (An unavoidable daily reality for most city dog owners.)

Again, no doubt a combination of psychological causes is in effect here. Including, most obviously, the dogs' desire to be with their owners. But also, plausibly: wondering if their owner needs them; believing that their owner forgot about them; unsure whether they were supposed to try and follow; and confusion over what to do now.

All of these can be eased by giving the anxious dog an assignment before leaving. I call it a "separation ritual": tell your dog what you want them to do - preferably something calming, peaceful, and enjoyable - e.g. "Go to your bed!", while leaving a chewy treat. Though much of this is part of the commonly recommended ritual among trainers, it differs drastically from the also-common (unfortunately in my opinion) prescription to distract the dog with a treat and "sneak out" before they figure out what's going on. Part of the reason I believe I've found the "assignment" approach to be so successful is that the dog learns he is not in control, not the one responsible for the important decisions that result in - or can reverse - the separation. Making fewer decisions means less decision-fatigue - and less anxiety.

Thunderstorms
Most dogs are afraid of thunder, many so severely that they tremble, shake, whine, and can cause themselves physical harm - or even suffer a heart-attack - during a storm.

I've found thunderstorm-phobia to be a more intractable problem than either of the two problems I just mentioned, I imagine at least in part due to the deep and innate nature of the fear. However, every ounce of the admittedly limited success I've found treating thunder-phobia has come from being a strong leader to the anxious dog and providing calming, consistent assignments. Again, "Go to your bed" is my standby here: the bed is calming, safe, and cozy.

A fearful dog won't initially want to go there during the trigger episode - whether assigned or not - but left to its own devices, the fear doesn't subside, it just builds as the dog paces, pants, and works himself into a lather. Consistent followthrough of the obedience assignment, on the other hand - followed by any and every reward the dog will accept - removes the dog's added stress of deciding what to do, how best to help him and you. The thunder will still be frightening, but a calmer base emotional state will be less affected by that fear.

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Any thoughts, opinions, or insights about decision-fatigue in dogs, or any of the other issues above? Let me know, I'd love to hear! - Anthony@calmenergydogtraining.com