[glencorgi]

Interesting read.

Debbie, who is a Dunbar fan

<http://tinyurl.com/ykj3g5>

(The photographs can be found with the original above.)

The Anti-Cesar Millan
Ian Dunbar's been succeeding for 25 years with lure-reward dog
training; how come he's been usurped by the flashy, aggressive TV
host?

Louise Rafkin

Sunday, October 15, 2006

It's late afternoon at Point Isabel, prime time at the Bay Area's
popular off-leash dog park, and the man some call the most innovative
in the field of dog training weaves unnoticed through the two- and
four-legged throngs. No one recognizes the slight, snow-haired man
dressed in Berkeley-esque traveler's clothes (well-pocketed shirt and
cargo pants) as Dr. Ian Dunbar, the man who wrote the book -- rather,
six books -- on pet dog training and the guy who developed one of the
earliest puppy-training courses in the country. Dunbar is 59, and
though he's been away from his native England for decades (since
1971), he carries the air of an English gentleman. Occasionally
British colloquialisms slip into conversation. "I was gob-smacked!"
is how he explains his recent shock over a case of dog-owner
ignorance.

With an eager border collie obsessively dropping a ball at his feet,
Dunbar scans the Point Isabel regulars. It's hard to imagine he's not
passing judgment on particular behaviors, but mostly he smiles at the
four-legged passers-by. Thirty-five years of studying dogs has not
dulled him to simple joys.

"Bay Area dogs are so cool, so friendly and polite," he says. When a
brown fluff ball approaches jauntily and sniffs his pant leg, he
genuinely gushes. "What a cute puppy!" Then an incessant barker
demands attention. "We've heard," he says firmly to the lab. "Haven't
you got anything else to say?"

Though they probably don't know it, Dunbar's training methodology has
probably influenced the pet-owner relationship of almost everyone
here at the park. He says he was the first to preach the once
revolutionary idea of training puppies off leash (formerly only those
six months and older were thought trainable) and also says he was the
first to stuff food into a Kong (the conical shaped rubber chew toy
and object of desire of most chewing-age puppies), thus saving table
legs and Italian loafers worldwide. More important, his methods and
theories have saved dogs' lives. Dog training is his passion, but
it's not simply because he finds a well-trained pet a thing of
beauty.

Training, he says, saves dogs' lives.

"Without training, the life of a puppy is predictable: chewing,
soiling the house, digging up the garden, followed by a trip to the
shelter where, if it's lucky, it gets another try," he says, wearily.
"Without training, that dog will be dead in less than a year."

There is a quiet battle being fought in dog-training circles, and
Dunbar, though he didn't pick the fight, represents one side. The
mild, very mannered Dunbar is armed with degrees and scientific
study: a veterinary degree and a Special Honors in physiology and
biochemistry from the Royal Veterinary College of London University,
a doctorate in animal behavior from the psychology department of UC
Berkeley and a decade of research on the olfactory communication,
social behavior and aggression in domestic dogs. All this, plus
decades of dog-training experience.

Impressive, yes, but his opponent in this training controversy is
backed by big business, Hollywood celebrity and, even worse, some
say, the power of charisma. Cesar Millan, a.k.a. the Dog Whisperer,
has his own television series on the National Geographic Channel and
is churning out a burgeoning enterprise of videos and books. The
subject of a recent New Yorker profile by Malcolm Gladwell, Millan is
often photographed on high-tech in-line skates, leading a pack of pit
bulls, rottweilers and German shepherds. The sexy Millan's
dog-handling credentials include an upbringing on a Mexican farm, an
"uncanny gift for communicating with dogs" and his Dog Psychology
Center in Los Angeles. There, with a pack of 50 dogs, he
rehabilitates wayward canines.

Besides foreign roots, there is little these two men share, except,
as Dunbar points out, the bedrock belief that all dogs can and should
be trained. If this were a dogfight, it would be the unlikely match
between a pit bull and a border collie -- unlikely, because those who
know dogs know the border collie would simply leave. In this case,
however, those watching the fight keep pushing the smart dog back in
the ring. Top dog trainers nationwide have expressed dismay that
Millan is the current face of dog training, and most say that Dunbar
should be the one with the empire. It's a perennial conflict in
training discourse. Are results best achieved through rewarding good
behavior or punishing bad?

Millan subscribes loosely to the idea of the pack, a dogs-as-wolves
theory that had long ago fallen out of favor with many trainers.
Touting dominance by pet owners, and the dictate to create "calm
submission" in their charges, Millan says owners are essentially pack
leaders. "I teach owners how to practice exercise, discipline and
then affection, which allows dogs to be in a calm, submissive state,"
he explains when asked to clarify. "Most owners in America only
practice affection, affection, affection, which does not create a
balanced dog.

"Training," says Millan, "only teaches the dogs how to obey commands
-- sit, roll over -- it does not have anything to do with dog
psychology."

In his recent best-seller, "Cesar's Way," Millan writes that there
are only two positions in a relationship, leader or follower. "I work
with dogs all the time that are trained but not balanced." Included
in Millan's repertoire is a snappy touch that he claims mimics a
corrective response by pack leaders, "alpha rollovers" (forcibly
making a dog show its belly), and submission to being rear sniffed.

"Never heard of that," says Dunbar when asked about bottom sniffing,
but he is loath to completely discount Millan. Indeed, both trainers
advocate any techniques that are humane and work for the dogs and
the owner.

"He has nice dog skills, but from a scientific point of view, what he
says is, well ... different," says Dunbar. "Heaven forbid if anyone
else tries his methods, because a lot of what he does is not without
danger." "Don't try this at home" messages are flashed throughout the
show, and in September, the American Humane Association requested
that the National Geographic Channel stop the show immediately,
citing Millan's training tactics as "inhumane, outdated and
improper."

Writer Mark Derr, in a recent New York Times editorial, went as far
as to call Millan a "charming, one-man wrecking ball directed at 40
years of progress in understanding and shaping dog behavior."

Nicholas Dodman, program director for the Animal Behavior Clinic at
the Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine at Tufts University and
author of "Dogs Behaving Badly," goes even further. He calls Millan's
techniques "abuse." A TV producer claiming his dog was injured while
training at the Dog Psychology Center is reportedly suing Millan.

While distaste for Millan might be growing, Dunbar focuses on
discounting the myths such training ideas foster. Dogs aren't wolves,
Dunbar says, generations of evolution separate the two animals.
"Learning from wolves to interact with pet dogs makes about as much
sense as, 'I want to improve my parenting -- let's see how the chimps
do it!' "

Dunbar claims compliance, the goal of all dog training, is most often
achieved through positive training methods. His lure-reward methods
-- using treats and praise -- have an even higher rate of success if
there is puppy socialization. Indeed, puppies put Dunbar on the
dog-training track. In 1981, after buying an 8-week-old malamute,
Dunbar sought a puppy class. He cast out as far as Sacramento and
Carmel but came up with nothing. At the time, common understanding
was that dogs couldn't be trained until they were 5 or 6 months old,
but from his studies, Dunbar knew dogs were learning behaviors long
before that. Though his academic interest was in dog olfactory
research and sexuality ("dog humping," he shorthands), Dunbar soon
found himself venturing out of the ivory tower. He found that he
enjoyed educating pet owners and began developing a training program
using positive feedback, games and treats.

Sirius Dog Training, as Dunbar called it, showed proven positive
results from early off-leash training. His classes, and the resulting
video, were embraced by trainers and owners alike. Many say Sirius
spurred the demise of punitive, punishment-based training that was
the vogue after World War II. In 1993, Dunbar founded the Association
of Pet Dog Trainers whose mission is to promote better training
through education.

The return to dominance training such as Millan's, Dunbar says, is a
disservice to dogs more than anything else. Though Millan gets
results, Dunbar notes that most people don't have Millan's strength
or skill, and even fewer keep dozens of dogs. "I teach methods that a
supervised 4-year-old can use," Dunbar says. Having been called as a
witness in high-profile Bay Area bite trials -- he was one of a team
who evaluated one of the dogs involved in the deadly attack on Diane
Whipple in 2001 -- he is all too familiar with the violent underbelly
of dog aggression. Fear, he underscores, doesn't train a reliable
dog.