Impenetrable Fingers or How Not to Meet a Dog

Kids, especially between ages 5 and 9 years old, are at significantly greater risk for dog bite injury than people in other age groups. Because reducing the number of dog bite injuries can be accomplished by improving the behavior of both dogs and children around each other, dog professionals find themselves in the position of having to educate children as well as dogs.

Preventing dog bite injury is NOT convincing dogs that you are "nice", or that you are "potentially dangerous to the dog". It is convincing dogs not to choose interaction with you. Convince the dog that you are dull, boring, uninteresting, and, by canine interpretation, a neutral stimulus. You make no attempt to bring the dog to you OR to push it away from you.

Preventing dog bite injury is NOT bracing for inevitable impact. Successful prevention focuses (oddly enough) on successfully convincing the dog not to bite. You might even say on "preventing" the dog from choosing biting.

Once the dog has decided to bite, theoretically, you can minimize impact by moving your backpack (or, read on, your impenetrable fingers, if you are so equipped) at the speed of light between you and the dog before the teeth contact you. I'm not saying it's theoretically impossible. I've studied physics. I simply don't know anyone, not even children, who can successfully maneuver a backpack at even Mach 1 (the speed of sound), which I think would do it. Practically, once the dog has decided to bite, most of us respond with after-the-fact regrets, bruising, bleeding, and possibly a trip to seek medical attention. Some of us engage the dog in an escalating fight by attempting to control the situation. Most dogs respond to escalating fights with more bites.


Socializing CHILDREN to dogs is equally critical to preventing injury as socializing dogs to children. Just as no dog will go its entire life without encountering a child, no child will go his/her entire life without encountering a dog.

According to my observation current parenting practices, parents seem to believe that any inhibition of behaviors will crush developing minds, who need to learn, and explore. Well, unpopular though my stance may be, I'd rather crush some of their psyche than see any other parts crushed. I want kids to learn the easy way not to dash in front of cars, not to climb into washing machines, and not to approach strange dogs, cats, or wildlife. I'm not saying that the hard way isn't effective. I'm sure most children hit by a few cars, drowned in washing machines, or bitten by a few dogs do learn to hesitate before repeating those behaviors. Effectiveness is not my issue with that approach. In addition to the threat of injury or fatality from bites, stray dogs, cats, and wildlife can carry diseases transmitted by saliva sneezed or licked on (rabies), physical contact (ringworm), and (shudder) ingestion of segments (I pet the doggy. I lick my hand) of tapeworm and roundworm.


The single most vivid dog-related memory of my childhood occurred when I was about seven or eight years old. Though my mother was likely watching us from a window in the house, I believed I was alone in the backyard with my two- or three-year-old brother, Roger, when I saw a pack of 4 stray dogs approaching.


Dogs, at that point in my life, were not something with which I had much experience. We didn't have dogs. My extended family didn't have dogs. We would occasionally meet and even pet (Heaven!) "nice" dogs. My mother was petrified of the two Dobermans leash-walked on the opposite side of the street from our duplex. (She wasn't all that excited to hear, some 20+ years later, that I had begun volunteering for Doberman Rescue...)

They were running towards our yard. Four medium-to-large dogs I had never seen before. Running directly at the two of us.

I instantly recognized danger. I don't recall why I knew (I was absolutely convinced) that the dogs would not hurt me if I stood still. It may possibly have been because, sometimes without my mother's knowledge, I had been socializing myself with neighbors' dogs for years, by this point. Never bitten. I was even more sensitive as a child than I am now. I could always tell what a dog liked or didn't like.

A charming yellow Labrador belonged to the neighbor behind us. He was tied out 24-7 on a runner. He would obligingly eat special pieces of grass I hand-picked to feed him. I knew he liked them. (Adult me says, Really? He did?--child says, "Yes, of course. They were from me, his friend." Odd child.) Tethered dog! Feeding! Do as I say, not as I do.)

I don't know how I knew that these four were not dogs to make friends with. I distinctly remember the feeling of terror I had as I realized the potential implications of my brother failing to comply with my order. Perhaps the seriousness of the situation was conveyed in the tone of my voice, or perhaps he was simply accustomed to following big-sister orders he didn't always completely understand, but he did not flinch as I froze and ordered, "Don't move."

Though he complied, Roger had an uncomprehending look in his eyes, waiting for the rest of the game to be explained. And then they arrived.

I recall the squeezing sensation in my chest as I watched the dogs approach Roger. Afraid to startle him into moving by speaking, I silently willed him not to move. I did not move. He did not move. Some dogs sniffed us. Some didn't. None jumped on us. Though it was likely an encounter of seconds, it seemed like forever before they raced off again.

That was it. We had been trees. It was a non-event.

Neither my mother nor my brother recall any of this story. Perhaps it is because my mother didn't see it. Perhaps only I realized, during the event, and even more now as an adult and dog training professional, how close we came to having a horror story. Four strange dogs. An 8- and 3-year-old. It wasn't just the paranoia of an overprotective big sister: I still think I was right. A sneeze could have provoked an attack.

Since I obviously loved dogs, I wonder what I saw that made me distinguish these dogs, which I believed to be potential danger, from the yellow Lab who would occasionally delight me by slipping off of his runner. (Being the responsible, big-sister type, I would lead him back to his yard and re-attach him to his runner. Again, do as I say... ) Even as a child, I was skeptical of my mother's belief in the dangerousness of dogs, and this incident did nothing to change my opinion.

So how did I know?
I think I understood that some dogs could be dangerous, and I recognized different body language, different speed and angle of approach from the pack of strays than I ever saw from the nice yellow Labrador who was my friend.


What advice does my experience lead me to give?
Parents:
ALL children must be deliberately positively exposed to nice dogs, just as all puppies must be positively exposed to children. Impulse control around all dogs must be deliberately taught & rewarded, ... and forcibly imposed until reliable. Children must be aware that any dog can be dangerous.

Children:
Be a tree! The "Be a Tree" program prevents hand & arm movement by giving the child a clearly defined behavior that elicits hand/arm control (folding the hands). It also prevents eye contact with the dog by having the child stare at his or her hands. Children are encouraged to be silent while listening for panting.

This advice conveys a similar idea to the "No Touch-No Talk-No Eye Contact" advice given by Cesar Millan.

Beware misguided advice that breaks the Recently, I learned that there is an individual selling dog training who decided to dispense this general idea as child safety advice: "Cover your face with your fingers. Peek through to see if the dog is friendly. Roll away in a ball if not." While I admire the good intentions of this individual, this advice is not merely unhelpful it is potentially harmful.

It reflects the individual's awareness of the high risk of injuries to the face, but addresses this risk by substituting the fingers for biting. I would like to point out that fingers are not impenetrable, and are often used by children and adults in many activities, making the sacrifice of fingers not such a useful strategy. Bite prevention is not about offering something else for the dog to bite. Bite prevention is being boring and non-threatening.

Also, movement is a very stimulating... stimulus to dogs. Dogs don't distinguish non-moving items from background well, often relying on scent or hearing when no movement is present to provide visual information. In this case, moving the hands (or any item) upward will draw the dog's attention upward, effectively highlighting the child's facial area, which I would like the dog to ignore or not even realize is there.

Finally, this advice does not address sound triggers. Squealing, screaming, yelling, or shouting also adds stimulation, which is counter-productive.

This individual misidentifies the real cause of dog bites to the face or any other part of the child. Young children should not NEVER approach strange dogs. If a dog approaches them they should be silent, still (not engage in any movements), and avoid looking at strange dogs, as noise, movement and eye contact are likely to excite a nice dog, who can still injure by knocking down, jumping on, or scratching a child. They can also be interpreted by undersocialized dog as threats, provoking an "unprovoked" attack.

Apparently, the individual believing in the impenetrable nature of fingers has not learned of the "Be a Tree" program.

NOT MOVING, and avoiding eye contact are the key to preventing bites. As a dog trainer (and former vet assistant & kennel manager), I have often interacted dogs who are known biters, or in situations that involve high likelihood of bites -- without being bitten. The more still & quiet you are, the less interest and alarm you cause, period.

On the two occasions where I have been bitten, (one involved one stitch) I can clearly identify my own provoking behavior, and poor choice. On one occasion, I misread a dog who was working on being CC & DS to movements toward it, which required me to move toward it. On the other, I attempted to intervene in a dog argument, which in hindsight, given the dogs' history together, would likely have resulted in no injury to either dog had I not. (I have successfully intervened a few dog fights without being bitten, but that doesn't mean it is a good idea. Very poor judgment. Extremely high risk: I'd say 85-95% chance of being bitten, 5% chance of not. A woman killed last year was intervening in a fight between her two mixed-breeds, neither of which was identified as having any pit bull genetics.)

Some programs advocate throwing things, or shielding yourself, backing away, and other inadvisable strategies. Some even advise intimidation attempts including yelling. These movements, sounds, and requisite eye contact directed toward the dog break my (and others') cardinal rules of dog interaction.