by Kristen Tobias, M.A.
I just got a puppy! He’s an adorable, sweet, lovable ball of joy…except when he’s not. We decided to use crate training as a short-term tool for managing these early months. Crate training is recommended by the ASPCA as well as other specialists, and is very effective if implemented properly. However, it is not easy to implement and involves diligence on the part of the owner. This strategy is successful because it encompasses simple principles of behaviorism, such as conditioning and reinforcement. These are principles that I am very knowledgeable of…so why was I having such a difficult time crate training my pup?
When you are in the middle of a problem, it can be difficult to determine what you are doing to contribute to it or why you are doing what you doing (especially when it is clearly not working). I was venting to my supervisor about the ineffectiveness of crate training and the “bad” behavior exhibited by my pup. As part of this diatribe, I may have mentioned that when the little guy won’t stop barking, I take him out so that I am able to get work done. Additionally, I may have mentioned that it breaks my heart to see him whimper and that I also take him out when this occurs. Her response was straightforward, “You are experiencing frustration intolerance and guilt.”
My inconsistent application of crate training was causing the method to be ineffective. Moreover, my emotional response to the situation was keeping me from reaching my goal of successfully training my puppy via the crate method. Now it was time for me to engage in my own disputations. Why was I telling myself that I could not stand to hear the dog barking? I have withstood many aversive sound experiences and lived to tell about it, or gotten work done in spite of cacophony. Barking isn’t awful; it’s just annoying (or in Ellis’ words, “It’s a hassle not a horror”). Importantly, my present tolerance of barking was worth it because it would pay off in the long. Also, there are practical solutions that I could readily implement, such as relaxation music to drown out the yapping. Worst-case scenario is that I am unable to be as productive as I wanted to be with the noise. Too bad for me, this just means that I will have more work to do later or tomorrow (i.e., decatastrophizing the situation).
Now, let me dispute the guilt, an unhealthy negative emotion. Why was I thinking that I must not, should not make my new pup whimper when I place him in his crate? Where is the evidence that puppies don’t whimper? How is it reasonable to think that I will always be able to make my puppy happy? How is it helping me to condemn myself for trying to train my puppy using methods recommended by experts? This type of thinking fails to consider the complexity of the situation.
Because I am human, I will feel a negative emotion when my puppy whimpers, but I don’t need to condemn myself thereby engendering guilt. A healthy negative emotion might encompass feeling bad, but is far from an emotion that would lead me to change my intended course of action.
