This is about an incident in October 2021 that I wrote about at the time but never published here.
I’ve been walking Clara every day in my neighborhood now since April [2021]. Now, recall that as a feral puppy she was introduced to the presence of humans other than me very gradually. We met with my trainer frequently at an outdoor mall where we could control distance well. Clara was a tough case. It was a slow process, but she got to where she could walk through crowds of people happily, as long as no one tried to interact with her, and I could either prevent that or move away.
One-year-old Clara at the outskirts of the mall(2012)
At the mall, Clara was exposed to way more varieties of humans than many “normal” dogs see in their lifetimes. She has remained blasé about assistive equipment, hats, sunglasses, things being carried, big families, toddlers, children, kids riding on their dads’ shoulders, big hair, flowing garments, uniforms, people on ladders and roofs, people doing construction work, bicycles and scooters, people moving fast—all that. Which is great.
On our walks in the neighborhood, she has retained that indifference to a very wide range of humans. They predict a treat from me if she wants it, but otherwise can be ignored. Recently we walked by a man who was practicing with his fly fishing rod in his front yard! That was fine.
Social distancing is great, since she is good with strange people, even if they look at her, as close as about eight feet. So I can even stop to chat with someone if I need to.
Today, though, she finally saw someone she didn’t like.
There was a small, old man dressed all in black jogging clothes. He walked unsteadily. He was smack in the middle of the street, and he was obviously (to me) looking at his front yard from different angles. So he was neither “walking with purpose,” a behavior Clara recognizes, or “standing around,” either alone or with a group, which is another familiar behavior. Or jogging, or sitting, or working in his yard. He was stopping and starting (unsteadily) and peering. We were between one and two houses away when Clara saw him. I already was paying close attention to both him and her since it would be hard to get by him at a comfortable distance.
“Grrrrr,” said Clara. This dog who virtually never growls.
I initiated an immediate U-turn and we went a different way. Yes, I likely negatively reinforced the growl. This vanishingly rare response from her was so much better than any escalating behaviors would have been.
I thought it was interesting that this would be the one person in months she would be bothered by, and maybe the only person she has ever growled at as an adult. And at that distance!
It took us a while to find someone whose looks and behavior fell outside Clara’s very wide knowledge of what “normal humans” in the mid-southern U.S. do, but we found him! I wish I could have taken a picture.
Clara on a walk in May 2024
Back to 2024. I walked with Clara virtually every day from April 2021 until her last evening on earth in late September 2024. She never growled at a human again.
Her walk became the favorite part of her day. None of that would have happened without the excellent training she had as a youngster. But she took that firm foundation and grew into an amazing dog. I’m so proud of her. And I think fondly about the moment when a human finally stepped so far out of bounds. It took a lot to get that response out of her!
What’s the weirdest thing your dog has encountered, whether or not they reacted to it?
This post is about the tricky concept of the combination of negative and positive reinforcement.
I’ve always wondered about behaviors having more than one consequence. I’ve recently learned more about the possibility, and I’ve found a good example of it with Lewis.
So-called “synthesized reinforcement” occurs when more than one reinforcer is a consequence of the same behavior. This occurrence has been recognized since at least as far back as 1969 (Osborne), but has only been named and systematically studied in the last 10 years. Synthesized reinforcement is noted in functional assessments and used in functional analyses.
Synthesized Reinforcement and Escape to an Appetitive
Lewis’ first harness
Sometimes escape is just about getting away. From the scary monster, the hot stove—you need to move out of proximity now. But sometimes a function of escape is to get to something better. This topic is discussed plenty with humans. Reinforcement in combination like this is called synthesized reinforcement.
Some scientists suggest that synthesized reinforcement is common, that looking for only one contingency in a functional assessment or functional analysis is artificial. Synthesized reinforcement can comprise aversive plus appetitive consequences, multiple aversives, or multiple appetitives. For example, multiple appetitives could be the cause of the extra joy your dog gets when you play with him with the toy, rather than when he plays with the toy by himself. Human examples abound. Think of the many, many ways that entering a stadium for a game is reinforced for a sports fan.
Back to the curious combination of R- plus R+. The classic (if dated) example is waiting until there is a commercial during something you’re watching before getting up to get a snack. You get away from the tedious commercial (escape) and you get access to food (appetitive). Most of us dislike commercials, but we rarely walk away from the screen to do nothing for 30 seconds.
Another example is doing extra work to get some time off from a class. Class isn’t so bad, but hey, a friend will take you waterskiing that day if you get the time off!
Synthesized reinforcement is also the reason it is kind to provide another source of an appetitive when you are performing aversive husbandry activities. This is a lot kinder than just saying, “Hey, my dog can leave if he wants to.” If there is nothing else to do in the room and you control the only source of food, simply leaving is not such a great thing!
So here is my real-life example.
Lewis’ second harness. He’s worried in the photo.
Setting the Scene (the Antecedents)
I walk my dogs individually every single day except in the case of illness or very bad weather. I have always gone in order of seniority, so young Lewis goes last.
In the cooler months, we walk in the late afternoon. While I’m walking with Lewis, my partner fixes the dogs’ suppers. Lewis knows the routine: when he gets home from his walk, his supper will be waiting. Have I mentioned that he is excitable?
In contrast, in the hot months, I walk the dogs much later. It’s near dusk and long after they have eaten their suppers.
The Action: Harness Removal
Lewis is excited to get his harness off (the teal one in the photo below) when his supper is waiting. But the tracking unit on his GPS collar is bulky. That means the harness can catch on the collar if he moves while I’m manipulating the straps. So I set a contingency on harness removal: I don’t remove the harness until he stays still.
A harness we used for a time after Lewis gained some weight.
Our system is that first I unsnap the two buckles. Then he needs to be particularly still while I maneuver the harness over the transmitter on the collar. After I’ve done that, I give his release cue. Lightning fast, he jerks his head all the way out of the harness and dashes to get his supper.
Usually I give my dogs a treat after I put on or take off their harnesses. Having someone fiddle with straps and snaps around your body is not the most fun thing. But in this situation, Lewis is completely uninterested in that one treat; his supper is waiting for him.
I’ve described a whole chain of behaviors and consequences. Lewis’ behaviors include being still, pulling his head out of the harness while backing up, and running toward his supper. I am going to simplify the scenario somewhat. Let’s focus on his “self-removal” of the harness, the escape behavior.
A. Harness is in an uncomfortable position (around his neck, half-on, half-off) B. Lewis wriggles out of harness C. Harness is off (no longer uncomfortable; free to move away)
This is a negative reinforcement scenario. But during part of the year, there is another big consequence available that’s tied to escaping the harness: a whole bowl of food. What effects might that have on Lewis’ harness behavior? I had a great way to find out.
Evidence of Positive Reinforcement
The immediate function of Lewis whipping his head around is to escape the harness. He wouldn’t whip his head on the way to getting his supper otherwise. But in the summer, Lewis’ behavior changes. When I switch to walking the dogs after supper instead of before, his meal is no longer awaiting him after his walk, and he knows that. When his supper isn’t waiting, he does not whip his head out of the harness. He “helps” me get the harness off, but with a mild twist or wiggle, often after a delay. The behavior has changed from “Let me out of here!” to “Meh, I guess I could pull my head back a little bit to help get this harness off.”
So the positive reinforcer (supper) appears to have a large role to play! When it is not present, Lewis does only the minimum to help me remove the harness. The topography of the behavior is different and there is no discretionary effort.
Could I Do Anything Differently with the Harness Removal?
My tentative conclusion is that there is always an element of negative reinforcement with the act of harness removal, at least with the harnesses I use. If I waive the contingency of the dog being still before getting out of the harness, there is still the automatic negative reinforcement of the behavior of wiggling out. And even standing absolutely still could be an escape behavior if they’ve figured out that’s the most efficient way for the harness to come off.
But I recently realized the obvious: Instead of removing his harness when he enters, I can unsnap his leash and leave the harness on. No wrangling! I can wait until after Lewis has eaten his supper and experienced anything else interesting that is going on in the house before I remove his harness.
When I remove the harness after the excitement, there is still an element of automatic negative reinforcement, but there is much less frustration for him. And he accepts my offering of kibble.
Lewis in his “big boy” Hurtta harness. To remove it, I have to unsnap two buckles, then pull it over his head.
The Big Picture
The idea of synthesized reinforcement is a fascinating one, but it’s also annoying. It can dislodge a lot of assumptions. It ruins our hopes, once again, that we live in a neat and binary world. That if we just follow the right formulae, that if we are careful with our functional assessments, we can teach our dogs successful pet behaviors without any presence of aversives. That we can reduce every situation to one contingency, so we know which ones to use and which ones to avoid. That doesn’t always happen for me.
Synthesized reinforcement also doesn’t fit perfectly if we think in terms of contingency tables (“quadrants”), which I still do. Modern behavior analysts categorize behavior more and more by function. Usually there are four to six possible functions identified, depending on your source. You will find behavioral functions listed most often as social, escape, tangible, and sensory (Cooper et al., 2014, p. 511). Lewis’ harness behavior would be described as escape to a tangible (some systems would further specify an edible). The synthesized reinforcement example I listed above, playing with your dog with a toy, adds social reinforcement to access to a tangible.
But I live in the dog training world, and we are still wrestling with contingency tables. If you think I am on my way to promoting R-, you haven’t read much of my stuff. Escape to a tangible is super common in the human world. But in training and other dealings with dogs, what I have seen is that escape contingencies (R-) are mostly implemented by humans in unpleasant ways for dogs. And even what seems to us to be a minor aversive consequence can have fallout. I’ll stick mostly with the contingency way of discussing things for now, while learning more about functional categories.
Living with our dogs, it is very, very hard to avoid R- completely. I accept that R- is present sometimes even though I don’t want it to be. I am committed to being transparent about that. When I required Lewis to be still while I pulled his harness over his head, I was using an R- contingency for safety. But I figured out how to recast that situation by removing his harness after he ate instead of before. Observing tiny aversive moments allows me to practice my analysis, burrow deeply, and pursue my goal of making my dogs’ lives better.
References and Resources
Note: Most of these resources involve the use of ABA with children, either deaf or autistic. Some people may prefer not to check them out. See my statement about ABAon my training philosophy page.
Cooper, J. O., Heron, T. E., & Heward, W. L. (2014). Applied behavior analysis, second edition. Pearson.
Ghaemmaghami, M., Hanley, G. P., Jin, S. C., & Vanselow, N. R. (2016). Affirming control by multiple reinforcers via progressive treatment analysis. Behavioral Interventions, 31(1), 70-86.
Holehan, K. M., Dozier, C. L., Diaz de Villegas, S. C., Jess, R. L., Goddard, K. S., & Foley, E. A. (2020). A comparison of isolated and synthesized contingencies in functional analyses. Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 53(3), 1559-1578.
Smith, S. W., Arroyo Antúnez, B. E., DeBartelo, J., Sullivan, W. E., Roane, H. S., & Craig, A. R. (2024). Synthesized alternative reinforcement and resurgence. Journal of the Experimental Analysis of Behavior, 122(2), 195-206.
Osborne, J. G. (1969). Free‐time as a reinforcer in the management of classroom behavior. Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 2(2), 113-118.
Lewis panting from fear after hearing nearby heavy equipment
Something sad and difficult is happening with Lewis: clinical sound phobia. He is suffering. Three months from the onset and diagnosis, he is doing much better with the help of medications, but we have a long way to go. I want to share, for others who are going through this or might in the future, what the recent months have been like for us.
Sudden Fireworks Phobia
Lewis joined my family in December 2021, and in the next few years we had many thunderstorms and at least eight noisy holidays. I live in a capital city, so we get shows with booming fireworks. Lewis didn’t show fear during these events (with one exception under unusual circumstances). He was happy to accept food after noises, though. Due to long experience with sound reactive dogs, I always deliver good snacks for fireworks and thunderclaps. But if Lewis built up some good associations from that, they weren’t enough.
On January 1, 2025, when the New Year’s fireworks started, Lewis started panting and trembling and seeking comfort. He was in extreme distress. I had no meds for him. We toughed it out with food, when he would take it, and he finally slept, exhausted. I made plans to see the vet.
About a week later, a snowstorm started that lasted a few days, a rarity here. We hadn’t been to the vet yet. Lewis has enjoyed the snow in the past. But at around 7:30 PM the first night, we were out in the yard, and a neighbor close by set off some firecrackers. This video shows the result.
Video shows Lewis standing with his paw raised, trembling, panting, startling to quiet noises, with dilated pupils and extreme tension in his facial muscles.
Lewis not only panicked at the time, but he became afraid to go into the yard, especially at night. During the duration of the snow, he wouldn’t go outside in the evening at all, so sometimes didn’t eliminate for up to 18 hours at a time. And his sound triggers quickly generalized.
I phoned the vet, and we started prescription medications as soon as the streets were clear enough that I could pick them up. I won’t describe the whole meds experience, but many of you know it can take much longer than we wish to get a med or combination that works for a dog. When you get it, it’s priceless, a game changer. But the vet and I are still working on it for Lewis. Writing this in April, he is much, much improved. But he is not his old self.
I also had him checked thoroughly for pain (Lopes Fagundes et al., 2018) by two vets. I’ll keep on top of that. It’s worth noting that he was in the age group where genetic sound phobia typically kicks in, according to Dr. Karen Overall (2013, p. 257).
We kept having bad luck. In February, the city water department excavated the next-door neighbor’s driveway. First, a jackhammer. Then an excavator scraping up pavement and dumping it, booming, into a truck. And of course the truck made backup beeping noises. A new level of trauma unlocked for Lewis. The work started every morning at 8 AM and lasted all day. This went on for four days one week, then two more the next week. Lewis would rarely go outside and was hyper-vigilant when he did so. Indoors got poisoned, too, as he associated the scary noises with being at home. When inside, he’d ask to be taken somewhere by car. He’d stand next to the cabinet where I keep his leash and harness or try to get into the garage when I went out. Or he would simply ask repeatedly to go in another room if doors were closed. I let him, but of course it didn’t help, since there’s no escaping sounds of that amplitude and frequency.
There was a sweet spot around dusk after the workers left and before the still-scary nighttime. Sometimes he’d do his only eliminating for the whole day during that time. Sometimes I had to take him to another neighborhood to get him to go.
Lewis standing by the cabinet where I keep his leash, asking to leave the house
Thunderstorms, Too
Lewis was also terrified the next time we had a thunderstorm, and from then on. In my sound webinars, I talk from an acoustic point of view about the difficulty/impossibility of preventing dogs from hearing thunder. This has been brought home to me anew: how desperate we get, as owners, for something, anything, to block that sound. But in almost all cases, you just can’t. When a thunderclap can shake your house, it’s ludicrous to think that an insulated doghouse, a closet, or even earmuffs can make that sound inaudible. This is why owners of sound phobic and other fearful dogs are so easily exploited by companies that sell products with false promises. When we want to relieve our suffering friends; we will try anything.
I also talk about the problems with satiation when using food for ad hoc counterconditioning. This is a big problem for us. In Arkansas, we have storms that go on for hours. We recently had such a day. We knew it was coming. I had about two cups of chicken ready in bite-sized pieces. The first thunder came at 5:30 PM. I had medicated Lewis ahead of time, but he was still reacting. Not as severely as in the video above, but still upset and frightened. I gave him a piece of chicken for every thunderclap for more than 60 minutes, but after that, I had to slow down. It was just too much food.
If you have studied Pavlovian conditioning, you know that it’s important to establish a 1:1 association between the conditioned stimulus (in this case, thunder) and the unconditioned stimulus (food). The clearer the association, the better the transfer of the response you get to the originally-scary thing. But you can’t do it cleanly with thunder. There are some horrible challenges related to satiation. First, which thunderclaps “count”? You start off treating for each one, as we know we should do. Then you realize that if you continue to do that, and include the quieter ones, you will be feeding nonstop. So you try to make some acoustic threshold in your mind’s ear, and just treat for “the loud ones.” But this breaks the pairing. And is there really some magic line for the dog between scary and “OK, I’m not quite panicking” thunderclaps? Even if there is, how do we find it?
The second problem is the duration itself. I mentioned in my example that the thunder started at 5:30 PM. As of 1:30 AM the next morning, eight hours later, there hadn’t been a period of even 10 minutes when there wasn’t audible thunder. Then we had two more days of thunderstorms.
It could help if I could start to ask for a behavior and give him something to do instead of waiting for inconsistently paired food. After hours and days of storms, I was giving “consolation chicken,” since all hope of a consistent pairing was down the drain. But moving to a behavior will have to happen later; he’s too upset.
Lewis waiting by a door trying to escape the thunder (it wouldn’t work, but I let him through anyway)
Training and Husbandry Got More Difficult
I mentioned that Lewis’ triggers generalized fast. A door slam, a twig falling on the roof, a human getting the hiccups (really!), the unexpected clink of some metal pieces in a box, the excavation, cars revving—all scare him badly. There are still few days without triggers. In the video above, you can see how sensitized he is; he twitches at least twice in response to background noises.
Lewis is already a challenge with handling and husbandry. I still trim his nails by giving him frozen peanut butter on a LickiMat and clipping as fast as I can. That’s where we are with nail trims after three years, even though I’ve taught cooperative foot handling to five other dogs. Last fall, Marge Rogers started coaching me on getting him relaxed and being handled. That was coming along nicely until the sound phobia kicked in.
The handling practice is on hiatus since he’s too sensitive for much training. But he also gets upset if I do his nails the old way, whereas before, he didn’t care for the handling but didn’t seem to mind the actual clipping.
A similar thing happened with Clara, even though she was such an easier dog than Lewis. She was relaxing through Dremeling at three years old, but then she got Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. She was in pain. I made the mistake of trimming her nails during this period and it was very hard on her. Although she was always cooperative, we never got our relaxed nail trimming back again, for her whole life.
Looking Back and Looking Forward
Each dog teaches me new things. I wish, for Lewis’ sake, he didn’t have to be teaching me about this.
Lewis’ condition is like Zani’s in that he is convinced that if he could leave the house (out the front, not the back), he could escape the triggers. I wish it were so! And both have/had a more severe response to their trigger sounds than Summer, who was afraid of thunder, but probably not phobic. Ad hoc counterconditioning helped Summer immensely. After Zani was stabilized on meds, structured desensitization and counterconditioning helped her to an amazing recovery. But her triggers had acoustic aspects that made them much more amenable to successful DS/CC.
Lewis has the toughest situation, with clinical phobia to thunder and fireworks that quickly generalized to many other sudden sounds and even objects associated with them. For instance, because one time some metal pieces settled in a box on the coffee table and made a “clink,” we have to be careful about cardboard boxes now.
Medications (ongoing and situational) and ad hoc counterconditioning have both helped. Lewis also profits from physical and verbal comfort. His first response when a sound scares him is to creep over to me or my partner. He often buries his head between my knees. He has access to places to hide, but isn’t interested. After his initial response, he wants to stay in sight of his humans, but not usually cuddly close. I can tell how upset he is by observing which location he chooses in the den.
I use sound masking to manage the acoustic environment. It can make such a big difference, and especially helped during the neighborhood excavation. Because of that, I figured out a trick for masking that may help some of you. I’ll publish that in a separate post.
Here’s an antidote to all the sad photos. We are still managing to have some fun during this adjustment and recovery period. I will keep you posted.
Related Posts and Resources
References
Lopes Fagundes, A. L., Hewison, L., McPeake, K. J., Zulch, H., & Mills, D. S. (2018). Noise sensitivities in dogs: an exploration of signs in dogs with and without musculoskeletal pain using qualitative content analysis. Frontiers in Veterinary Science, 5, 17.
Overall, K. (2013). Manual of Clinical Behavioral Medicine for Dogs and Cats. Elsevier Health Sciences.
It did not turn out well to work on duration for “front paws on a platform” during Lewis’ breakfast period.
Most of us know the harm that tools such as shock and prong collars can cause. But I worry that our focus on tools causes less dramatic aversive methods to go under the radar.
We do talk about some aversive methods not associated with tools. Things like molding, where a dog is forced into position. Scaring dogs with noises. Kicking or hitting. But you know what is discussed very little?
Extinction. Specifically, operant extinction of a positively reinforced behavior. An experience that can be so unpleasant to the learner it can provoke violence (Azrin et al., 1966) or depression (Huston et al., 2013; Ramnerö et al., 2016).
Here’s a definition:
The extinction operation is the discontinuation (cessation) of reinforcement as a consequence of a given behavior, leading to a decrease in the frequency of that behavior. — Mayer et al, 2018, p. 30.
Tools such as shock and prong collars are used almost exclusively in positive punishment and negative reinforcement protocols. Extinction of a positively reinforced behavior is not an event associated with their normal use. But the experience of extinction can be anything from annoying to frustrating to devastating.
Extinction in Positive Reinforcement Contingencies
There are varying intensities, for lack of a better term, of extinction. When a trainer shapes behavior there will be episodes of extinction, in which a previously reinforced approximation is no longer reinforced. But the more skilled the trainer, the fewer and more uneventful these are. A good trainer makes it plain through the environmental setup and their actions what the dog should try next. I.e., how they can continue to access reinforcement with slight changes to their behavior.
Alanna and Flynn were just messing around. But look at his claws!
Sometimes we train a new behavior to access the same or similar reinforcement as a problem behavior. No matter how kind and thoughtful we are, our goal is to extinguish the problem behavior in that context. But good planning and providing a clear path to reinforcement for the dog can help soften the experience.
But contrast these carefully designed plans with, for example, the commonly recommended method to ignore dogs who jump up without giving them any clue about what to do instead. Many people have discussed the inefficacy of this method, including me. But besides being ineffective, any abrupt change like that can be unkind. (Depending on how this plan is implemented, it very likely incorporates negative punishment as well.)
Alanna Lowry, DVM, and wonderful, “naughty” Flynn were hamming it up in the adjacent photo. But it is no fun for most dogs to have their human completely ignore them.
That’s the kind of extinction scenario I am focusing on in this discussion: a previously reinforced behavior that is no longer reinforced at all. A complete cessation of reinforcement with no alternative offered. The dog has no ability to remedy the situation, i.e., access that reinforcer again.
This happens not only in training, but in life.
Noting quickly: there also exists extinction of negatively reinforced behavior, so-called escape extinction. I may write about this in the future.
Theoretical Extinction Example
Here is an extreme example that I hope none of us would ever do. Let’s say that every evening you have a play session with your dog. You make several preparations for this. You may change your clothes. Perhaps you’ll grab some treats from a jar. You may get some special equipment and set it up.
You make all the preparations, grab your dog’s toy, and head for the play area. Your dog is accompanying you—excited and ready for some fun. You’ve started the familiar launch sequence. But when you get to the area where you normally play, instead of starting the play, you put the toy out of the dog’s reach and sit down and look at your phone. You ignore your dog.
It’s painful for me to even imagine this because of how hard it would be on my dog. He would try different things to engage me in play for a while. I would be able to see the effects of the extinction process in his behavior as his behavior began to vary. I would likely see frustration-related behaviors if I let it go on too long (Bentosela et al., 2008; Jakovcevic et al., 2013). In other words, fallout.
If I did that every day (completely stopped playing with him after setting up to do so), I wonder how long it would take before he stopped trying to play with me? Again, this is sad to think about.
What Extinction Can Look Like
In the photos below, Lewis’ Jolly Ball, a favorite toy, is hanging in the tree behind me. He is using a variety of behaviors to remedy the situation. This is typical of an extinction process, where the variability of behavior increases. It is a diluted extinction burst.
I call it diluted because was not a true extinction event. I cherrypicked the photos out of a quick 60-second video. I did not consistently ignore Lewis. I interacted with him between these shots, and I put some peanut butter on the tree to set up that shot. It was still excruciating for me to do, to slightly confuse him and to delay the fun for 60 seconds. Of course we played heartily with the Jolly Ball afterward.
There is a lay term for this activity: teasing. “Look! Here’s this thing you want but you can’t have it.”
It worries me that suddenly ceasing to reinforce a behavior that had been reinforced in the past would not break any stated guidelines about force free training I’ve seen. Although they are acknowledged as problematic in the Hierarchy of Behavior-Change Procedures and in the LIFE model, professional organizations don’t seem to cover them in their requirements and position statements and they are not a frequent topic of discussion for individual trainers.
We are technically not doing anything to the dog at all. Not touching him, not scolding him. Yet—it can be cruel.
Real-Life Extinction Example
I made that example extreme to focus on the potential harm. but this type of thing happens in smaller ways. It happens when we suddenly change routines. Here’s a real example from my life with Lewis.
Lewis eats most of his breakfast out of a food toy. But for several months, I broke up his breakfast period with a training session. He got to choose when to switch. I went in with a handful of 15–20 higher-value kibble pieces. I made myself available and waited for him to take a break (good matching law exercise), then we’d have a quickie training session. Then he went back to his food toy.
Lewis is anxious and tapping his feet on the platform
Over the months, I noticed that we had a hard time in those sessions. He was jumpy and mouthy. He seemed conflicted, likely because of having to leave one food source for another. Duration behaviors such as front-paws-on-a-platform, shown in the top and adjacent photos, were extra difficult. The adjacent photo is from one of those sessions; the top one was posed much later. See the difference?
I had done this mid-breakfast training with Clara before, but she was a different dog with a different history with me. She moseyed over to play with me, then moseyed back to her food toy. It took me way too long to perceive the negative experience for Lewis.
After I noticed, I decided to stop our mid-breakfast training session.
I put some thought about how to break our routine in the kindest way possible. Even though the session seemed stressful, he would eagerly approach me when it was time and gobble the food. So he would notice its absence for sure.
What were the cues for this interruption? An obvious one was my entering the hallway where he eats. So if I stopped coming in, would he stop “expecting” the session? No. Another part of the cue was time. Not time of day, but the amount of time elapsed from when he started eating. Somewhere around four minutes. I could not prevent the passage of time. So I couldn’t prevent the little period of extinction where he would perform anticipatory and approach behaviors like looking up from his toy or coming to the gate where I would normally enter. Those were the behaviors that would no longer be reinforced if I ceased the mid-breakfast session.
Was this going to be grueling for him? Not likely. To anthropomorphize a bit, the human parallel would be something like, “Well, I guess we aren’t doing that anymore. Damn. I liked that food. Oh well, I’ve got this other food to work on.”
But making a plan and softening this change provided good practice for me to learn how to handle more intense extinction scenarios that might come along.
My Training Plan
Parts of the Cue (Predictors)
Elapsed time
My getting out the food (he could sometimes hear or see this)
My approach with food
Lewis’ Behaviors in Response to the Cues
Standing still (rather than interacting with his toy)
Looking around
Approaching the gate where I enter
Reinforcers
To eliminate the training session, I planned to fade the cues by softening them or moving them, and to decrease the amount of the special kibble (but not to zero).
Here are the steps I took.
I substituted something else for the training session. I came in at the usual time and gave Lewis the special kibble in a floor scatter. Then I hung around for a while. I offered this social behavior because there was a social reinforcer included in the original activity. He likes having me around when he eats.
I gradually decreased the amount of special kibble (but included the rest in his meal or in another training session).
I gradually lengthened the amount of time before coming in.
My final behavior is to come in when he is about finished with his food toy (which I have always done anyway), hand him a couple of pieces of the special food, then help him retrieve any pieces of kibble he can’t get. The last is part of our normal routine.
Why Bother?
My first example with the play session may have seemed overblown. And my example of fading the interruption in Lewis’ breakfast may seem insignificant.
But I want to practice thinking about this, working out the problems to prevent unpleasantness in my dog’s life. My thought processes will help me if something bigger comes along.
Conclusion
Whether it’s in training or in life, whether it’s planned or sudden and unavoidable, don’t ever forget about the hurt of extinction. If it’s necessary to discontinue a regular activity your dog enjoys, soften the blow in any way you can. And if you have a training credential, ask your accrediting body whether extinction without differential reinforcement is worth addressing in guidelines and position statements.
What kinds of extinction scenarios have you noticed with your dog, either in training or daily life? What happens when there is a cue for a behavior and there is no reinforcement available for that behavior anymore? This can include some very sad scenarios, such as a breakup or a death in the family. (In the future, I hope to write more about the loss of Clara. It hit Lewis hard.) But there are so many less intense things that happen: schedule changes and the like. How does your dog handle them? How do you help your dog?
References
Azrin, N. H., Hutchinson, R. R., & Hake, D. F. (1966). Extinction‐induced aggression. Journal of the Experimental Analysis of behavior, 9(3), 191-204.
Bentosela, M., Barrera, G., Jakovcevic, A., Elgier, A. M., & Mustaca, A. E. (2008). Effect of reinforcement, reinforcer omission and extinction on a communicative response in domestic dogs (Canis familiaris). Behavioural processes, 78(3), 464-469.
Huston, J. P., de Souza Silva, M. A., Komorowski, M., Schulz, D., & Topic, B. (2013). Animal models of extinction-induced depression: loss of reward and its consequences. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 37(9), 2059-2070.
Jakovcevic, A., Elgier, A. M., Mustaca, A. E., & Bentosela, M. (2013). Frustration behaviors in domestic dogs. Journal of applied animal welfare science, 16(1), 19-34.
Mayer, G. R., Sulzer-Azaroff, B., & Wallace, M. (2018). Behavior analysis for lasting change, fourth edition. Sloan.
Ramnerö, J., Folke, F., & Kanter, J. W. (2016). A learning theory account of depression. Scandinavian journal of psychology, 57(1), 73-82.
Our happy times were many and long, but usually not dramatic
I first learned of the “peak-end rule” when I read Daniel Kahneman’s book, Thinking, Fast and Slow. I thought it was interesting and could relate. Years later, when Clara died, the reality of it hit me.
This post reflects my state of mind immediately after I lost Clara. My perspective has widened over time and the pain has softened. I am not sinking into fixations or deep regrets. I gave her a good life. The concepts I discuss in this post are part of what helped me through my initial grief. I hope they will help others, as well.
Bucket lists. A favorite last meal. A peaceful, painless death, surrounded by loved ones.
It is natural to want the best for our beloved pets at the ends of their lives, as we have throughout them.
Yet, after losing Clara, I noticed something in myself. I had a focus, almost an obsession with her last hours, her last day, her last week. Even her last couple of years. And I have seen this focus in many others.
It has a name: the peak-end rule.
Definitions: The Peak-End Rule and Duration Neglect
The peak-end rule is a cognitive bias that causes us, when looking back on an experience, to focus on two things: the most intense part of it and the end.
I’m not saying that these things aren’t important. But the peak-end rule can—and has been shown experimentally to—cause us to de-emphasize, even ignore long periods of pleasure and happiness. The same with long periods of moderate pain, when flanked by more extreme pain.
Here’s a scientific definition:
The peak-end rule . . . asserts that, when people retrospectively evaluate an experience (e.g., the previous workday), they rely more heavily on the episode with peak intensity and on the final (end) episode than on other episodes in the experience — Alaybek et al., 2022.
A related effect is called duration neglect.
. . . we define [duration neglect] as little or no independent effect of duration on retrospective evaluations of affective episodes. — Fredrickson & Kahneman, 1993.
This is the flip side of the peak-end rule. We devalue duration in comparison with the peak and end of an experience, even if the peak and end are very brief compared to the total experience.
Research has shown evidence for duration neglect when we recall both pleasant experiences (e.g. vacations) and unpleasant ones (medical procedures).
The peak-end rule has been shown to apply to retrospectively assessing the happiness of a life (Kahneman, 2012, p. 387). So here I am, after Clara’s death, noticing the peak-end rule while thinking over her life.
So Many Regrets (And Some Blessings)
I have all these regrets relating to “the end.” They were very intense in the days after Clara died. In retrospect, this happened to varying degrees with my other dogs as well.
Clara’s Potato Chip
I wish I had given Clara a few more potato chips on her last night on earth. I gave her one, but she wanted more. What I would have given her had I known! And I kept thinking of it on the day she died. Why just ONE damn potato chip? Luckily, Ruth was more generous, and gave her three or four cheese crackers. I asked Ruth that day, after Clara was gone, how many she gave her the night before. I wept in gratitude about those crackers.
But Clara had great food her whole life. Good nutrition to the best of my ability, but also wonderful treats, wonderful variety, very high-value foods. Homemade dog treats. People food. A grilled lean pork chop for her lessons. Fast food chicken sandwiches for training on the road and whipped cream pup cups. And since we moved here in 2018, after we eat, Ruth gives the dogs tastes of our suppers or other fun food that’s safe for them. She does this every day.
Clara has had food that other dogs might only dream of, over the duration of her whole life. And I’m fixated on that one potato chip.
Zani’s Ice Cream
A fun outing very close to the end of Zani’s life
Out of all my dogs, I had the most warning that Zani was reaching the end of her life. She had a probable diagnosis of lymphoma, but she was still feeling good for a few weeks. We had time for a mini-bucket list. But you know what I focused on after she passed? My timing at her euthanasia. I was too late when I offered her some ice cream.
It was a blessing that I could be there at all; it was the height of COVID, September 2020. It was also a blessing that she wasn’t scared at the vet. She walked in with the tech in her jaunty way, eager to find people to visit.
But when the moment came, we were in a rush. I wasn’t fast enough with the vanilla ice cream I had brought in a thermos. Zani looked at it, then the sedation kicked in and she fell asleep. I still think about that ice cream. Is it about me and my fantasy of her perfect passing? Mostly. I still hope that she got enough of a whiff of the ice cream to have a happy feeling on the way out.
But I have some sweet memories from Zani’s last days. There was the fun mini-trip I took with her four days before she died, many yummy meals, and the special chews that Debbie Jacobs sent us in the nick of time. Zani got to chew one on her last day, about an hour before her appointment. I am so grateful for that.
Clara’s Training
A rare training session in Clara’s last month, September 2024
This one is not about the last moments, but the last years. I have a huge regret that I did not continue my training fun with Clara after Lewis came. He exhausted me. I wasn’t even able to do much of my own work for a long time. Luckily, Clara still had her walks. I had been walking her and my partner’s dog daily since April 2021 (then Lewis, starting in 2022). I am so grateful for that, and proud that I walked them so consistently. But Lewis dominated my time. Clara’s training games (and the trick title work) ceased abruptly. I feel guilty.
This is a reasonable regret, more than a bias. We stopped doing something she loved. But feeling extra bad about it is an example of both the peak-end rule and duration neglect. Clara has gotten more of my time and attention than any other dog. We lived for each other. That never stopped. She has been on outings and gone places the others never have. For seven years, she had two fun lessons a week with a great trainer. We usually went to a shopping mall (ice cream!) or a beautiful park for a long walk.
She got my best training self for ten years. And high value treats and much, much play. But because I stopped training with her for two years (with a few exceptions), and because it was during our last years together, I feel this guilt. If there had been a hiatus of a similar period, but in the middle of our lives together, I would have regrets, but the loss likely would not loom so large.
I stopped walking the dogs for two weeks last summer after I sprained my ankle. I hated it for them. But since it wasn’t at the end for Clara, it doesn’t horrify me to think about. She got three more months of walks after that. And it’s a blessing to me that her last one was extra sweet because it was drizzling rain. That was her favorite kind of walk.
Hemangiosarcoma just snuck up, so I don’t know that I could have done anything better. But I feel awful, of course, that her last hours on this earth were painful, and she was in a foreign place. No idyllic euthanasia at home after a perfect bucket week or month. But it helps immensely that I was with her at the very end, that I was the last thing she saw before she sank into peace. And it WAS peaceful. So much better than Cricket, who fought, and Summer, for whom I wasn’t present.
Perhaps Clara was in as much pain, if I can compare, after her spay when she was a teenager. They let her come home the same day, because of her extreme fear. She was hurting. But I haven’t thought of that in years. It was not at the “end.”
Do I seem callous for comparing these things? I am not undervaluing any of her pain. Just noting that her last morning “feels” like the worst to me. But I don’t know how it felt to her. And she is gone now, leaving me to think about her life.
The GoPro
My last, slightly goofy photo of Clara on a walk, a week before she died
Another regret, and this one didn’t even affect her, only me. But it feels somehow like it affected her. I bought a GoPro, largely to get some candid shots of Clara and record the dogs on their walks. Clara reacted poorly to having a phone camera pointed at her for her whole life; I was hoping she would not do so with the GoPro. I got it about four days before she died. I didn’t know what was coming. I didn’t set it up in time.
I almost deleted this example, since it feels in really bad taste to have the privilege to buy such a camera and then whine about not getting to use it. But I include it because it’s another example of bias. Because of my ankle sprain in June, I stopped using my phone to make videos of Clara’s walks. I needed to watch my footing better. I have many videos of Clara on walks. And while there are probably other three-month gaps in that set of videos, it specifically hurts that I don’t have any for her last three months.
The Experiencing Self vs. the Remembering Self
Kahneman talks about the “experiencing self” and the “remembering self” and their vastly different perceptions of situations and events. The remembering self is the one that values peaks and ends. The experiencing self. . . experiences. It’s the one living in the moment.
I’m thinking about my living dogs now. Lewis and my partner’s Chihuahua mix, Choo Choo. Many people who have just lost a dog will say to others, “Hug your babies today, give them treats.” Some will say to act as if every day is your pet’s last day because you never know if it might be.
I ran that last one through my mind in the present and my experiencing self said NO WAY. Give Lewis a whole bunch of potato chips? EVERY NIGHT, because it might be his last night? No. The “treat them as if every day were their last” idea doesn’t cut it in many ways. Health. Nutrition. The dangers of too much fat and salt and the harm that can come from unbridled treat food. The risks of exhaustion or injury if you focus on play or intense activities. What an interesting idea, to try to make every day a peak. Because that’s what the idea boils down to. But it was an instant No when I thought about it. Out of the question.
I spell this out because it was interesting to have my experiencing and remembering selves come smack up against each other. I was regretting Clara’s one potato chip at the same time I was refusing to do something that might prevent that regret with Lewis.
Application of the Peak-End Rule to How We Perceive Our Dogs’ Lives
I’m surprised that there is not a lot of written discussion about this. Grief over losing a pet is becoming more recognized and affirmed by society, and resources for this type of loss are burgeoning. The peak-end rule can aid understanding of why some things can hurt so badly.
There is one significant exception to the silence on this topic related to pets’ lives. Veterinarian Mary Gardner, in Treatment and Care of the Geriatric Veterinary Patient, focuses on the peak-end rule in the context of euthanasia. After discussion of the rule, in a section titled “Endings Matter,” she advises vets on the ways they can help not only the pet but the pet’s guardians by making the euthanasia experience as calm and peaceful as possible. The book has thoughtful instructions on how to speak to the guardian about the process, the order of events, and more. She ends the section with these words:
Although our pets are a part of our stories (an important chapter), their own lives are a story. And in stories, endings matter most. So make the most out of the end and make it good — Gardner and McVety, 2017, p. 338.
Why Knowing about the Peak-End Rule and Duration Neglect Bias Can Be Helpful
I’ve related a lot of sad moments and regrets in this post. But the point behind them, and my impetus for sharing, is that knowing about the peak-end rule helped me put those things in perspective.
I understand more than ever why bucket lists can be such a good thing. Not only for the dog, but for the person. Having memories of the extra-special times near the end of our dogs’ lives can be sweet. The ones I described for Zani above were not dramatic. Many people do much more unusual things. But ours were enough out of the ordinary that the memories shine for me.
On one memorable “peak” walk in the summer of 2016, my friend and I let our dogs get in the Arkansas River because we were afraid a dog was overheating (she wasn’t, it turns out). There are lots of reasons not to get in the Arkansas River, but Clara was thrilled.
I now have a weapon against my regrets and sad memories. I’ve delineated some of my regrets above. (That is not a complete list.) I have kept the painful images and memories of Clara’s last hours private. But I’ve learned that we can honor duration, even if that doesn’t come naturally. We can remind ourselves of the thousand fun walks or trips our dogs had even if they missed one their last day.
Rather than focusing on the dramatic “peaks,” which stand out in our memory, and rather than trying to make peaks every day, we can be present and constant with our dogs and mindful of their happiness. Our experiencing selves can do that, and we can remind our remembering selves of it.
I would never ever dismiss or devalue the events near the ends of our loved ones’ lives, good or bad. But it has helped me immensely to consider the rest of Clara’s life. It was long, it was calm, it was safe, it was happy. I made it that way, and I can feel peace in that.
Copyright 2024 Eileen Anderson
Related Posts
References and Resources
Alaybek, B., Dalal, R. S., Fyffe, S., Aitken, J. A., Zhou, Y., Qu, X., Roman, A., & Baines, J. I. (2022). All’s well that ends (and peaks) well? A meta-analysis of the peak-end rule and duration neglect. Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes, 170, 104149.
Is your dog scared of fireworks? Don’t wait until the holiday hits. Even with just a couple days’ lead time, you can make a plan and take action now to help your dog be less afraid of the unpredictable scary sounds of fireworks, firecrackers, whistles, and even guns.
Get Ready
Here are some things you can do starting today or tomorrow.
1.Check into medications. If your dog gets very anxious about noises and you have never talked to your vet about it, do so now. He or she may be able to prescribe something to help. And if you can’t get in before the holiday, do your best with some of the other ideas here to get through it and call your vet as soon as you can. This is a long-term problem. Sound phobias tend to get worse and are not something to be taken lightly.
2. Countercondition to noises. Get some great treats and start carrying them around. Whenever there is any kind of sudden or startling noise, including stray bangs and booms as people test their noisemakers, rain treats down on your dog. Use those special treats only for noises; don’t pass them out for nice behavior (use something else for that!), and don’t ask for any particular behavior from your dog when the noise occurs. Just give the special treats.
You may wonder why I am not recommending buying an app, CD, or YouTube video with fireworks sounds to “practice” with. Performing desensitization/counterconditioning with sounds is tricky. People who haven’t done DS/CC before run a real risk of scaring their dogs further instead of helping them. This is why I am suggesting this method, which uses environmental noises that are happening anyway. It’s called ad hoc counterconditioning and there isevidence from studies that it is effective, including this study that is specific to fireworks. Save the formal training for after the holiday, when you can keep your dog safe from accidental exposures to the sound.
3. Create a safe place. Make (or adapt) a safe place for your dog. They may even choose their own! Refrain from trying to get them to come out or change locations, as long as it is safe. Keep in mind that the flashes of light that come with big fireworks displays can be scary too, so consider a method to temporarily darken any windows nearby. Also, please know that acoustic foam and even sound blankets don’t do a thing for booms. The big fireworks sounds can’t be “soundproofed” against except with materials that are much too big and heavy to use inside most houses and are not do-it-yourself friendly. Get the best protection you can in a basement or your most internal room. Despite the marketing claims, dog crates with walls a few inches thick can’t dampen low-frequency sounds to an effective degree, either. The walls of your house are probably five to ten inches thick and include insulation, but you can still hear thunder inside your house, right? But if a crate is your dog’s safe place, that’s great. And a blanket over it can muffle echos and create a cozy feeling for humans and perhaps dogs. Here are some examples of safe places for dogs.
4. Play sound or music. Experiment with sound masking to find out what is most helpful for your situation. Try some kind of recorded white or brown noise, natural noise, a fan, or music to mask the pops and booms. (Even a noisy food toy can be helpful.) This approach is evidence-based and is called sound masking.
And here’s a tip: the lower the frequencies included in the masking or music, the better it can hide those low-pitched booms (Kinsler et al., 1999, p.318–320; Gelfand, 2017, p. 187). So if your dogs are already habituated to pounding rock music, metal, or something else with a lot of bass or percussion, play it! And play it on your best sound system to include those low frequencies. It can mask some of the scary noises coming from outside your house more effectively. Before anyone mentions it: that’s right, heavy metal has not ranked well in the dogs and music studies, tending to make shelter dogs more agitated (Kogan et al., 2012). That’s not surprising. But if you play it already and your dogs are fine with it, they may be habituated. In that case, metal could be the very thing for you and your dog.
Taiko drumming is great if your dogs are accustomed to it. You can buy a few songs and loop them or find some on YouTube. But be absolutely certain that the music itself doesn’t scare your dogs first. If they are already sensitive to booms, it’s a strong possibility.
Household appliances can help. Most fans hit fairly low frequencies and can be helpful. You can run the dryer (no heat) with a pair of sports shoes in it for some booms that will probably be familiar and not scary. You’ll need to find the line of best fit for your dogs. And you can use several of these at once, again, as long as it doesn’t scare your dog.
Review studies indicate that music has only mild (or no) positive effects on dogs (Lindig et al., 2020). Also, all studies so far have been done in shelters. clinics, and labs, not in homes, where there are competing activities and reinforcers. Review studies have specifically indicated that there is no benefit to the “music arranged for pets” products. So the evidence supports choosing music for masking qualities, not for any claimed intrinsic relaxing qualities.
5.Practice going out. Make a plan for taking your dog out to potty. Do you know when the noise is usually at its worst and can you work around that? Are your fences and/or leash and harness secure? If your dog is not used to being on-leash for potty time, start practicing now, including getting the harness on. Dogs who are usually sedate may panic and run off on noisy holidays. Don’t let that happen. Keep your gates locked, your dogs’ ID tags on, and put some redundancy into your safety system.
6. Comfort your dog if that helps. LOSE that idea that there’s something wrong with comforting your dog, if that’s what your dog wants. Helping a dog through a tough time is not “coddling.” Assess what is most helpful to your dog: a cuddle, food or a fun game after every scary noise, some lap time, sweet talk, being in their crate with a food toy, or hiding by themselves in a secluded place. Then help them do it. If they want to hide, let them.
The best part of noisy holidays for Summer was spray cheese!Lewis likes to be close to me when weird noises are heppening
Gelfand, S. A. (2017). Hearing: An introduction to psychological and physiological acoustics. CRC Press.
Kinsler, L. E., Frey, A. R., Coppens, A. B., & Sanders, J. V. (2000). Fundamentals of acoustics. John Wiley & Sons.
Kogan, L. R., Schoenfeld-Tacher, R., & Simon, A. A. (2012). Behavioral effects of auditory stimulation on kenneled dogs. Journal of Veterinary Behavior, 7(5), 268-275.
Lindig, A. M., McGreevy, P. D., & Crean, A. J. (2020). Musical dogs: A review of the influence of auditory enrichment on canine health and behavior. Animals, 10(1), 127.
Riemer, S. (2020). Effectiveness of treatments for firework fears in dogs. Journal of veterinary behavior, 37, 61-70.
In July 2019, I gave a live webinar on dogs and sound to a sold-out crowd through Linda Case’s The Science Dog. In June 2024, I presented an updated version, translated live to the German training organization IBH. Practicing the updated presentation gave me the opportunity to record it for future audiences.
I am pleased to announce that my recorded webinar Sound Decisions: Helping Your Dog Cope with a Noisy Human World is again available for purchase.
Not only that, but I have reduced the price for my other sound webinar: Listen Up: An Evidence-Based Assessment of Sound Products for Dogs. And I’ve created a “bundle” where you can buy them both for a further discount.
I really want this information to get to trainers and the public, so the prices are super low.
About the Webinars
This subject matter is mostly unknown in the dog training community. Misinformation abounds.
There are so many aspects of the physics of sound we need to know about for successful dog training and management. Trainers need to understand basics about sound science to perform desensitization and counterconditioning effectively with client dogs. They need to be informed about the science of sound to help with management solutions. They need to be able to identify bogus products and claims.
Trainers and pet owners alike often search for methods to protect their dogs from bothersome sounds. Many of the solutions commonly offered for these problems are not supported by evidence.
We need to approach sound with the same scientific rigor that we do behavior science. I’m uniquely qualified on the subject. I have a master’s degree in music from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music and a master’s degree in applied science (acoustics) from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. My research and thesis were on active noise control.
You can read the descriptions of the two webinars on my store site, but in short:
Sound Decisions focuses on the ways we can help our dogs who are sensitive to sound. It’s about 60 minutes long.
Listen Up focuses on products including ultrasonic toys, ultrasonic punishment devices, music for relaxation, barriers to sound such as earmuff-type products, and more. It includes demos of what really comes out of some of the ultrasonic toys and aversive devices. It’s about 90 minutes long.
Both cover a lot of ground!
Both webinars have guaranteed access for at least a year your enrollment date, and probably much longer.
If You Purchased “Listen Up” from Me Previously
Listen Up formerly sold for $30, which is more than the new price of the bundle of two webinars. If you purchased Listen Up from me, I’m happy to provide a code for free access to Sound Decisions. Contact me here on my blog or on Facebook Messenger through my personal Facebook account. I’ll need the email address you used when you purchased Listen Up to verify your previous order.
Four speeds, from slow to fast, of an Andis rotary tool for nail grinding
People in the dog community are worried that sounds we can’t hear might be bothering our dogs. But we can’t check for ultrasound with consumer equipment, even smartphones, because consumer microphones don’t detect sound above 20,000 cycles per second (20,000 Hz). They have no reason to, since we can’t hear in that range. But dogs can. They hear up to 45,000 Hz or higher.
My Search for Ultrasound
In 2023, I bought an ultrasound microphone and learned how to interface it with my equipment. In January 2024, I published a post with instructions on how to check your home and environment for ultrasound that your dogs might be able to hear. I found that many ordinary noises had an ultrasound component—things like clickers, keyboard strokes, motors, even barking dogs. But I was looking for duration or intermittent ultrasound that might be generated by electronic devices and didn’t have a component audible to humans.
I didn’t find any for a while, but I kept searching. You can see my list of items that didn’t emit detectable ultrasound below.
I recently checked the sound environment again, and found some constant, low-level, electronics-generated ultrasound in dogs’ hearing range that was not accompanied with anything in the human hearing range.
The culprits: three adapters that put out ultrasound, but no sound audible to humans
I found what people have been worried about: sound that dogs can hear but we can’t. But the sound was very quiet; it would likely be inaudible unless a dog was very close.
This ultrasonic noise was emanating from ordinary AC/DC adapters. I have at least 20 of these in my house. I found three that put out a high-frequency noise that was outside of humans’ hearing range. These were the adapters for:
A floor lamp with a 24 V DC power supply. It put out a group of frequencies peaking around 21,000, 31,000, and 43,000 Hz.
A decorative “Moon” lamp with a 12 V DC power supply. It put out a group of frequencies peaking around 23,000, 28,000, and 33,000 Hz. This adapter even put out a little sound when the lamp was off, but more when it was on.
A Fi GPS collar charger that output 5 V DC. The USB adapter put out a band of frequencies peaking around 22,000, 30,000, and 45,000 Hz.
Note that it was the adapters, not the lights or the charger putting out the sound. I spent a lot of time pointing my microphone at the wrong ends of things!
The following image shows the ultrasound put out by the adapter of the floor lamp. The x axis is time and the y axis is frequency. You can see blue and green bands in the 20–70 kHz range that correspond to the peaks I listed above during the periods the lamp is on. Also note that there is no change in the sound output lower than 20 kHz when the lamp is on. That means that we humans can’t hear the adapter. (The thin vertical lines were created by the click of the remote for turning the lamp on and off.) For more information on reading this kind of diagram, see the page of examples that accompanies this post.
I found one more item that had a constant, quiet, high-frequency sound in the human hearing range plus sounds in the ultrasound range. These sounds were coming from a battery charger for a Dremel tool (8220). It put out an audible tone at 6,000 Hz, and harmonics (mathematically related higher tones) at 12,000, 18,000, and 24,000 Hz. The charger itself (the part where you insert the battery, in this case not the wall plug) has a built-in AC/DC adapter.
AC/DC Adapters
AC/DC adapters function as power supplies for devices that use direct current and lower voltage than what our wall outlets provide. They are the things that often annoy us by taking up more than one space on a power strip. They are often referred to as wall warts because of their bulk. That makes them easy to locate in your home. Two of my culprits were wall warts, and one had a profile almost as small as a normal AC plug.
What Do They Sound Like and How Audible Are They to Dogs?
Here are recordings of the sounds, digitally altered to make them audible to humans. There is some unavoidable distortion, but you can get the general idea. To create these sounds, I did the following:
I recorded the sound in WAV format using my Dodotronic 192 kHz ultrasound mic attached to my iPhone 12 Mini using the free Ultrasonic Analyzer app.
I imported the audio file into the free sound software Audacity on my Mac.
I applied a high-pass filter to isolate the ultrasound.
I amplified the signal. The sound was so quiet that I needed to amplify it to be able to see on the screen where the device was on and where it was off so I could edit. See this image.
I changed the pitch to bring it down to human hearing range.
Sometimes I amplified again.
I exported the file as an MP3. The limitations of MP3s don’t affect the sound quality needed for these recordings.
Floor Lamp
“Moon” Lamp
Fi Collar Charger Plug
The moon lamp’s power adapter puts out extremely quiet ultrasound even when the lamp is off
All the original sounds have ultrasound components in dogs’ hearing range, between 20,000 and 45,000 Hz. But the adapted versions are amplified in the above recordings; in all cases, the original sounds were much, much quieter.
For those of us who are concerned about them possibly bothering dogs, there is a blessing. Ultrasound waves are tiny. For instance, the wave that corresponds to the frequency of 25,000 Hz is 14 millimeters, or a little more than half an inch long. For comparison, a 60 Hz wave such as we could hear in a thunderstorm is 5.7 meters or almost 19 feet long. The tiny ultrasound waves don’t travel far over distances because they are reflected and absorbed so easily. It’s a good bet that even dogs don’t hear sounds such as the ones I presented above unless they are close to the source. The sounds are not blasting through whole rooms.
The two lamps are within about 2 meters of where Lewis sleeps on my bed. While recording, I moved the ultrasound mic from the lamp’s power adapter toward where Lewis sleeps. The mic stopped being able to pick up the sound at about 1 meter. You can see the attenuation of the sound as I moved the mic in this image.
Items I Tested with Null Results
Various scholarly and lay articles include lists of household devices that may put out ultrasound. I chose the following devices from those sources, tested, and detected no ultrasound. Other brands or models of these items might yield different results. Note that some of these items have been reported to scare dogs (Grigg et al., 2021). But noises do not have to have an ultrasound component to do so, and we don’t know if the ultrasound component contributed to the fear response.
new and old lights: fluorescent, incandescent, LED including ring lights, night lights (which include adapters)
screens: desktop computer, tablets, laptops, flat-screen TV
motion-sensitive wildlife camera (Meek et al., 2014)
laptop fan
computer power adapters (I was sure I’d find a culprit here, but no. The Apple devices were all silent.)
power strips
USB wall plugs (these are also AC/DC adapters). The only noisy one was the Fi collar plug.
smart plugs (two brands)
refrigerator, microwave, oven
smoke alarms on standby (not beeping)
remote controls (except for occasionally the click of a key)
Because of a viral social media post from November 2023, many people are concerned about the possibility of so-called “smart plugs” putting out ultrasound. While it is possible, neither of the two I tested put out any. I deliberately chose cheap ones, because they are less likely to have strong quality control. An engineer pointed out to me that standard QC includes making sure electronics don’t put out noises such as coil whine or capacitor squeal in the human hearing range. But there is far less concern about the ultrasound range, for the same usual reason. We can’t hear it.
Note that smart plugs are not AC adapters. You might plug an adapter into one, though. Many smart plugs note 2.4 GHz or 5 GHz on the back. Don’t worry; these numbers refer to compatible Wi-Fi types and are not audible sound frequencies to humans or dogs.
barks and whines of a small dog (Sibiryakova et al., 2021)
clicks of various switches (like on remotes to fans or lamps)
smoke alarms doing a test beep
computer mouse clicks
hands clapping
jingling keys
hand-held hair dryer
jingling dog tags
upright vacuum
small rotary tools (e.g. Dremel)
Makita screwdriver and drill
Makita rotary hammer drill
For some of these items, the ultrasound component was among the loudest of the frequency bands. Because dogs’ hearing is more sensitive in the upper frequencies than ours, if a dog were close to such an item, they would likely hear a louder sound than we do. Most apps that measure volume, such as SPL meters for smartphones, don’t include the ultrasound range.
People frequently ask me about using ear-muff type ear protection for dogs who are fearful of thunder or fireworks. I always explain that such gear can’t protect against the huge sound waves generated by those low-frequency sounds. But these ear protectors can usually prevent the transmission of smaller sound waves very well. If your dog has been conditioned to wear ear gear, it would be a kindness to have them wear it as much as possible for grooming. The hair dryer and rotary tools I checked were loud in the ultrasound range, on top of being loud in high frequencies humans and dogs can both hear. Clippers may also put out ultrasound, but I didn’t have any to test.
“Ultrasound” Is an Arbitrary Definition
It’s crucial to understand that sound doesn’t magically change when the frequency goes over 20,000 Hz. That boundary of 20,000 Hz for ultrasound is derived from “sound that is too high for humans to hear.” It’s a handy distinction, but it’s based on biology, not physics. It’s anthropocentric. Ultrasound is just sound with a higher frequency. I always make the point in my sound webinars that we shouldn’t assume that a sound is aversive to dogs if it is in the ultrasound range, even though there are some oddball online articles that claim this is so. Keep in mind that dogs’ hearing evolved to function in that range. Many small animals that are prey to canids vocalize in that range. It’s no coincidence that domestic cats can hear in that range and even higher, too.
Anything happening above 20,000 Hz is a mystery to us. But it’s not to dogs; it’s just part of their world. It is quite possible that a constant noise in the ultrasound range could bother some dogs. It’s also likely that many dogs habituate to it, just as many dogs (and many humans) stop noticing other ongoing stimuli. For instance, the furnace is on in my house as I write this. There is the sound of the fan blowing air through the ductwork and perhaps the sound of the furnace itself coming through the registers. But I don’t “hear” these long duration sounds unless I turn my attention to them. Likewise, most of us who live in cities don’t notice the common 60-Hz hum of transformers. But people who live in rural areas may notice it when they come to town. And some people are immediately bothered by some ongoing sounds or never habituate.
I have an example in another post of dogs hanging around during a very obnoxious ongoing sound, even deliberately basking in the sun close to the sound source. This example “proves” nothing about how all dogs respond to sounds. However, it provides evidence that we may not be able to predict their response.
The “stealth” sounds I found are likely inaudible unless a dog approaches close. Here is a photo of sound-reactive Lewis standing right next to the adapter for the floor lamp while he determines whether I have “webinar or Zoom treats” in a drawer.
The ultrasound generated by motors can be loud. Properly conditioned hearing protection would be beneficial for dogs undergoing grooming procedures where a hair dryer or rotary tool is used.
Others have found more stealth ultrasound than I have, as described in this dramatically-titled CNET article. However, the author doesn’t discuss the rapid attenuation over distance of ultrasound, nor do they give us a good sense of how loud the sounds are.
I will keep performing periodic sweeps for ultrasound culprits in my area and report any findings.
Supplemental Materials
There are two pages with information relevant to this post:
Copyright 2025 Eileen Anderson
References
Grigg, E. K., Chou, J., Parker, E., Gatesy-Davis, A., Clarkson, S. T., & Hart, L. A. (2021). Stress-related behaviors in companion dogs exposed to common household noises, and owners’ interpretations of their dogs’ behaviors. Frontiers in veterinary science, 8, 760845.
Meek, P. D., Ballard, G. A., Fleming, P. J., Schaefer, M., Williams, W., & Falzon, G. (2014). Camera traps can be heard and seen by animals. PloS one, 9(10), e110832.
Sibiryakova, O. V., Volodin, I. A., & Volodina, E. V. (2021). Polyphony of domestic dog whines and vocal cues to body size. Current Zoology, 67(2), 165-176.
If your dog is afraid of noises, please take that seriously. Sound reactivity can be debilitating, and the clinical, medical condition of sound phobia can be devastating. Neither is commonly “solved” by purchasing a product. Evidence supports the use of counterconditioning, relaxation training, and behavioral medications (Riemer, 2020).
The Pet Shell Pet House
I do not own a Pet Shell. I am reviewing the claims of their marketing materials compared to the acoustic report they published.
A new product for dogs and cats, the “Pet Shell,” has hit the market. It is a Kickstarter project and promoted as a noise-reducing pet house that “reduces sounds by more than 50%,” which is a problematic statement. The marketing materials further imply that the interior of the Pet Shell is “silent,” with multiple statements such as, “The unbeatable combination of darkness and silence (emphasis theirs) creates a calming space for your pet, similar to a den.” The silence claim is also problematic, and untrue per their own test results.
The noises they feature in a promotional video are a thunderclap, a siren, a jackhammer, a vacuum, traffic, a beeping alarm clock, and fireworks. Similarly, the sounds listed on the “Understanding Dogs’ Sensitivity” section of their Kickstarter site are thunderstorms, fireworks and gunshots, loud vehicles, sirens and alarms, construction and industrial noises, and household noises. Note how many of these include low-frequency sounds.
This product is being aggressively marketed as a solution for dogs who fear thunder and fireworks. However, Pet Shell’s own published acoustical testing report, impeccably performed at the Slovenian National Building and Civil Engineering Institute, reveals that the low frequencies of thunder and fireworks are where the Pet Shell is least effective at preventing the transmission of sound.
The acoustic testing of the Pet shell was performed by a physicist with excellent credentials. The report is exemplary, with methods explained well and with sufficient detail and transparency that someone with the right equipment could replicate the testing. I am glad that Pet Shell engaged an expert who knows testing procedures and the applicable standards to do this work.
The results are well supported in the report itself, and they are in keeping with general knowledge about sound entering enclosures. I will assume the accuracy of the report findings through this blog post.
The Problematic Marketing Claims
The marketing materials contain many statements and claims that are refuted by Pet Shell’s own test results. Here are the highlights.
Problematic Claim:The Pet Shell reduces sounds by more than 50%. The average sound reduction across the frequency bands over a range of 1–20,000 Hz was found to be 13 decibels. Since a 10-decibel reduction correlates with a decrease of the perceived sound by half (for humans), this “more than 50%” reduction can be defended. However, that average gives an incomplete picture of what is happening inside the Pet Shell. The effectiveness of sound reduction by passive means (barriers, absorption) depends on frequency. It is much easier to prevent the transmission of high-frequency sound. If you check the breakdown by frequency on the sound testing report, you see that the low frequencies from 100 to 250 Hz show much less reduction in the Pet Shell. The attenuation is 2.6 dB at 100 Hz, 4.2 dB at 125 Hz, 6.6 dB at 160 Hz, 5.3 dB at 200 Hz, and 3.4 dB at 250 Hz. These frequencies correlate with the frequencies of thunder and large fireworks, and they are being reduced much less than the average.
Please view the report to see this dramatic decline in effectiveness at low frequencies depicted graphically on page 4.
This poor performance is not at all surprising; it’s common to all barrier-based solutions. You can see a similar lowered effectiveness in the sound spectrum report for Rex Specs Ear Pro, ear protection for dogs. Passive sound barriers are not effective at preventing the transmission of low frequencies; the waves are too massive.
The Pet Shell can claim a 13-decibel reduction overall because the sound attenuation is much more effective at higher frequencies. But think what that means. An animal in the interior of the Pet Shell is in a soundscape with a predominance of low frequencies.
Problematic Claim: “…minimizing intense sounds – especially high-pitched ones that trigger stress…” This statement correctly identifies that the Pet Shell is more effective at decreasing higher-frequency sounds than lower-frequency sounds, as is true of any passive sound barrier. But why are they focusing on “high-pitched sounds that trigger stress” when most of the sounds they list on their sites and include in their promotional video are low frequency? Fireworks and thunder are featured over and over. Of the sounds I listed from their materials above, only the siren, the alarm clock, and some household noises stand out as higher frequency. And while there are plenty of dogs who fear high-frequency sounds (I had one), a recent study showed that thunder was the most common fear (Grigg et al., 2021, p. 4).
Problematic Claim: The usual buzzwords for such products like “calming, safe, silent, secure,” and implications of relaxation and decreasing anxiety. I’m sure some animals enjoy the privacy, the ability to hide in a cozy place, and the moderate sound reduction at higher frequencies. But dogs inside the Pet Shell will still hear the fireworks and thunderstorms perfectly well.
Images Depicting Fireworks and Thunder Sounds by Frequency
The following images show that the weakest performance of the Pet Shell (per their report) correlates with the loudest frequencies of fireworks and thunder.
I analyzed sound recordings of fireworks and thunder in the software Audacity, and the images below show the sound spectrum, in other words, how loud the sound is at different frequencies. In the images, the horizontal (x) axis is frequency, and the vertical (y) axis is decibels. The higher something is on the y axis, the louder it is. I marked with a black rectangle the frequency area where the Pet Shell is least effective per the numbers in their report: the range from100 to 250 Hz. It correlates with the loudest frequencies of both the fireworks and thunder.
Fireworks
Thunder
The red line in each image shows the peak, the area of maximum amplitude (roughly, volume). In both cases, it is within the area where the Pet Shell performs the worst.
See my technical addendum at the bottom if you are curious why the decibels on the y axis are negative.
I purchased the sample sounds of fireworks and thunderclaps from Pond5.com. You can listen to lower-quality previews (turn down your volume first!) of the sounds I used here (fireworks) and here (thunder). I chose recordings by ear that had plenty of low frequencies. Here are sources for information about the typical low frequencies of fireworks (Tanaka et al., 2016) and thunder (Holmes et al., 1971).
Can a Little Reduction Help My Dog?
Are you thinking, “Well, even a tiny bit of reduction in the sound of thunder is probably worth it”? If so, ask yourself whether your dog reacts only to the loudest thunderclaps. When they hear thunder that doesn’t shake the house, are they fine? In that case, maybe a little reduction could help (although they’ll still feel the house shake inside the Pet Shell). Or have they generalized to fearing most or all thunder noise? In that case, a small reduction in decibels is immaterial. Dogs often get sensitized to sounds that scare them. When this happens, the sound can scare them at lower intensities than it did originally. In these cases, a small reduction in the sound intensity would not make a difference.
A “before” photo of clinically sound phobic Zani, who didn’t need a hiding place from sounds for her last five years because we consulted a veterinary behaviorist
Conclusion
The Pet Shell is expensive and doesn’t cure sound fear. It doesn’t block low-frequency sound. It’s not silent inside. Providing a hiding place is a kindness, but don’t we want more than that for our dogs—to address the fear itself?
The harm of the Pet Shell comes from the marketing claims, including that it can protect dogs significantly from thunder and fireworks. Their own report says that it can’t. People may purchase this product instead of pursuing evidence-based approaches to help their pet’s sound sensitivity.
I had an exchange with a representative of Pet Shell on social media after I made a brief critique. They were polite and open to suggestions. I asked them to put a notice on their website about how serious the fear of sounds can be in dogs, and to encourage people to seek professional help for their dogs for this problem.
References
Grigg, E. K., Chou, J., Parker, E., Gatesy-Davis, A., Clarkson, S. T., & Hart, L. A. (2021). Stress-related behaviors in companion dogs exposed to common household noises, and owners’ interpretations of their dogs’ behaviors. Frontiers in veterinary science, 8, 760845.
Holmes, C. R., Brook, M., Krehbiel, P., & McCrory, R. (1971). On the power spectrum and mechanism of thunder. Journal of Geophysical Research, 76(9), 2106-2115.
Riemer, S. (2020). Effectiveness of treatments for firework fears in dogs. Journal of Veterinary Behavior, 37, 61-70.
Tanaka, T., Inaba, R., & Aoyama, A. (2016). Noise and low-frequency sound levels due to aerial fireworks and prediction of the occupational exposure of pyrotechnicians to noise. Journal of occupational health, 58(6), 593-601.
Technical Addendum: Those Negative Decibels and dB(A)
The decibels are negative in my images because they are being measured inside a computer and not the real world. Decibels need a reference point, and there are lots of different ones used. The maximum decibels that the computer can record (so-called “full-scale”) is set at a reference point of zero. So the closer the negative number is to zero, and the higher it is physically on the image, the louder the sound is at that frequency.
The designation dB(A) in the Pet Shell report refers to a decibel scale that is weighted, taking into account the characteristics of human hearing. This can introduce error, but it’s unavoidable at this time. We don’t have a scale weighted for dogs (which is acknowledged in the report).
There is no experimental evidence to support the claim that dogs prefer to work for their food. In fact, there is evidence that they don’t.
Contrafreeloading is the behavior shown when an animal prefers to work for food (“earned food”) rather than take identical food that is freely available from another, nearby source (“free food”). — Inglis, 2022
A recent study found that statistically, the group of dogs they tested did not prefer contrafreeloading. They were willing to do it. I’ll discuss the results of the study below, including their definitions of “prefer” and “willing.”
But it’s just as important to learn about contrafreeloading findings in general. Studies on contrafreeloading have been done with many species. The studies have had large variability in results (Lentz & Cohen, 1980). Contrafreeloading is far from a universal preference; it appears more to be situational. And the many studies have yielded patterns that can inform us of situations in which this interesting phenomenon is more or less likely to happen.
Maned wolves have been observed to contrafreeload
Highlights of the Research
The seminal Jensen study (1963) is often cited to support contrafreeloading generally, including in dogs. In that study, rats preferred to press a bar to get food rather than eat it out of a dish. What many people miss are the full results of the study and the experimental follow-ups. Jensen’s rats contrafreeloaded in proportion to their reinforcement history with bar pressing—they worked for food more when they had built a habit. In 1972, Taylor performed an experiment similar to Jensen’s, but the rats in his study showed a strong preference for the free food, and an even stronger preference for free water. Taylor had more preference tests after the initial bar pressing training (Jensen had only one preference test), and contrafreeloading decreased over those sessions as time passed from the initial training. Lentz and Cohen (1980) worked with pigeons to investigate whether previous training with the contrafreeloading method of obtaining food had an effect. They also found that response rates in the presence of free food increased as a function of previous training.
“The data suggest that amount of training affects contrafreeloading and that this variable may be partly responsible for the large variability in responding observed among studies examining responding in the presence of free food.” — Lentz & Cohen, 1980, p. 48
The research continued, and scientists discovered many other factors that could influence whether animals chose to contrafreeload. A review paper in 1997 (Inglis et al.) compiled from previous studies seven items that could increase or decrease contrafreeloading . They used them to create a fuzzy logic model of contrafreeloading. Here are the seven items they considered. Supporting references for each of these are in the Inglis paper.
Prior training. A reinforcement history with the method of accessing the food increases contrafreeloading.
Deprivation level. This has both increased and decreased contrafreeloading in studies, depending on other variables.
Effort required. The larger the effort needed to access the food, the less likely animals are to contrafreeload.
Stimulus change. A change in the environment that correlates with the presentation of the earned food increases contrafreeloading. This might be a light or a sound. (Hmm, clicker training, anyone?)
Environmental uncertainty. Novelty, ambiguity, and surprisingness increase contrafreeloading. For instance, animals are more likely to contrafreeload if that food source appears at an unpredictable location.
Rearing conditions. Being reared under conditions of sensory deprivation increases contrafreeloading.
Manipulation of the environment. Being able to control the environment may be a factor that increases contrafreeloading.
Red junglefowl, the primary precursor species to the domestic chicken, contrafreeload more than chickens (Lindqvist et al, 2002)
The list above comprises factors that can affect whether animals contrafreeload in different situations. But they do not explain why. One well-supported hypothesis is that the food itself is not the only reinforcer for food seeking behavior and eating. This “information hypothesis” notes that animals gain information about their environment when they contrafreeload. Such information could be helpful when seeking food in the future. This hypothesis has been borne out in studies.
An earlier review (Osborne, 1977) looked at contrafreeloading experiments through a behavior analysis lens and analyzed the reinforcement schedules identified in the studies. Osborne was apparently the first to note the effects of “stimulus change,” one factor listed above. After reviewing the research up to that point, Osborne states, ” . . . when the consequences of responding for food or obtaining it freely are made equally reinforcing (e.g., by equating stimulus change conditions for both alternatives), animals show a near exclusive preference for obtaining their food freely.”
Scientists have noted one other trend that supports the information hypothesis: domestic species tend to contrafreeload less. This is thought to be because their needs are taken care of by humans, and they don’t have a pressing need to seek information as wild animals do.
The Dog Study
The study of contrafreeloading in dogs (Rothkoff et al., 2024) is freely available online and very readable. Since the results were that dogs were “willing” to contrafreeload but didn’t “prefer” it, it’s important to learn how the scientists defined these terms.
Here’s how the experiment was set up. There were four “acclimation” sessions where the dogs gained experience with eating from a snuffle mat and became familiar with a setup of a snuffle mat and a tray of “free” food. After the acclimation sessions, there were 10 experimental sessions. In these sessions, half of the dogs’ meal was in the snuffle mat, and half in the tray of food. All acclimation and experimental sessions were video recorded.
A preference for contrafreeloading was determined by measuring how often the dog went to the snuffle mat first. A willingness to contrafreeload was determined by measuring how often the dog approached and interacted with the snuffle mat before finishing the food in the tray.
Results under these definitions were:
Preference. Only one of 38 dogs preferred to contrafreeload, going first to the snuffle mat 80% of the time. Twenty-two dogs went first to the tray for a large majority of the time, and fifteen dogs did not show a strong preference.
Willingness. Thirty of 38 dogs were “willing” to contrafreeload. Eight were not willing.
We can consider the characteristics of snuffle mats in view of Inglis et al.’s seven factors affecting contrafreeloading. Compared to many food-based enrichment toys for dogs, snuffle mats are low effort. They do not require the skill of puzzle feeders or frozen Kongs. I find it interesting that even with a comparatively easy “earned food” opportunity, most dogs preferred the free food. But mats also lack a stimulus change—there is no bell or click when the dog grabs a piece of food from the mat. That absence could make contrafreeloading less reinforcing.
There are two other interesting findings in the study: dogs’ activity level did not correlate with a preference for free food or contrafreeloading, but dogs with higher body condition scores (more overweight) were more likely to contrafreeload.
Finally, there is a thoughtful listing of the limitations of the study at the end of the writeup.
Enrichment
Where does this leave us with enrichment? In dozens of online articles on enrichment for dogs, you will see contrafreeloading referenced. You will see such absolute and non-evidence-based statements as:
Dogs have a behavioral drive to earn their keep
All dogs are contrafreeloaders
Dogs will work for their food while passing up the same food for free
Dogs would rather work for their food than not
The message is sometimes more nuanced, especially in the last couple of years. But you can still find plenty of articles that present contrafreeloading as an unquestioned attribute of dogs. Moreover, contrafreeloading is presented as a justification for enrichment activities that involve dogs working for food.
There are many enriching activities that don’t involve food toys
How this information about dogs and contrafreeloading might affect our enrichment choices is beyond the scope of this post. But here are some resources.
I use food toys. This study and the rest of the contrafreeloading research do not discourage me from offering them in moderation. Here are some things I do and don’t do with food toys.
I do use food toys with dogs with cognitive dysfunction (easy ones).
I do look for toys and activities where the dog’s enthusiasm seems much greater than the value of the food involved, as in searching games.
I do use food toys with easy-to-access, high-value food for delay counterconditioning or just to sweeten difficult situations.
I do help my dogs with those last stubborn pieces at the end if they ask me to.
I don’t give a dog a challenging food toy on an empty stomach, nor do I train in that situation.
I don’t ask a dog to work for food when they are sick or have a low appetite.
I don’t ask a dog to work for food in a way that stresses them out. For instance, treat scatters can stress some intense resource guarders. Similarly, I don’t do food chase games with dogs who gulp it frantically.
I don’t ask a dog to interact with a toy they find un-fun. Lewis has told me he finds Kongs, especially frozen ones, pretty “meh.” I give him Westpaw toys instead.
The research with dogs is only one study, with identified limitations. More research needs to be done. But with the power of the rest of the research behind it, the study is compelling. Scientists have been studying the “when” and the “why” of contrafreeloading for decades. It’s time for us to consider those findings in the dog training world.
Copyright 2025 Eileen Anderson
Related Posts
References
Inglis, I. R., Forkman, B., & Lazarus, J. (1997). Free food or earned food? A review and fuzzy model of contrafreeloading. Animal behaviour, 53(6), 1171-1191.
Inglis, I. R. (2022). Contrafreeloading. In Encyclopedia of Animal Cognition and Behavior (pp. 1665-1670). Cham: Springer International Publishing.
Jensen, G. D. (1963). Preference for bar pressing over “freeloading” as a function of number of rewarded presses. Journal of Experimental Psychology, 65(5), 451.
Lentz, B. E., & Cohen, S. L. (1980). The effect of prior training on the contrafreeloading phenomenon. Bulletin of the Psychonomic Society, 15(1), 48-50.
Lindqvist, C., Schütz, K., & Jensen, P. (2002). Red jungle fowl have more contrafreeloading than white leghorn layers: Effect of food deprivation and consequences for information gain. Behaviour, 139(9), 1195-1209.
McGowan, R. T., Rehn, T., Norling, Y., & Keeling, L. J. (2014). Positive affect and learning: exploring the “Eureka Effect” in dogs. Animal cognition, 17, 577-587.
Miller, H. C., & Bender, C. (2012). The breakfast effect: Dogs (Canis familiaris) search more accurately when they are less hungry. Behavioural processes, 91(3), 313-317.
Osborne, S. R. (1977). The free food (contrafreeloading) phenomenon: A review and analysis. Animal Learning & Behavior, 5(3), 221-235.
Rothkoff, L., Feng, L., & Byosiere, S. E. (2024). Domestic pet dogs (Canis lupus familiaris) do not show a preference to contrafreeload, but are willing. Scientific Reports, 14(1), 1314.
Taylor, G. T. (1972). A limitation of the contrafreeloading phenomenon. Psychonomic Science, 29(3), 173-174.
Veissier, I., Lesimple, C., Brunet, V., Aubé, L., & Botreau, R. (2024). Rethinking environmental enrichment as providing opportunities to acquire information. animal, 101251.
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