Names That Confuse Me

In my very first blog, I talked about naming animals.  That's like one of the most fun/stressful things ever.

Missy, aka Meep Meeps, aka Meepers. But as Shakespeare once wrote, a penguin by any other name will still projectile poop.

How do animals in zoos and aquariums get named?  Sometimes, it's through a naming contest.  That's a great way to get guests involved with your facility, especially with Facebook and Twitter and all the other social media outlets I'm too old to understand.  As animal trainers/caretakers, these contests are one of the most stressful methods of animal christening.  Why? Because invariably, there is at least one Bad Name That Makes No Sense But All Guests Love For No Explicable Reason.

 I wish I knew.

For example, let's say hooray! A seal pup is born! And he is cute and squishy and has huge expressive eyes, and you're all like ready to go to name the little dude.  The entire training department will start throwing out names like:

Pacific, you know, because that's his lineage, a Pacific harbor seal.
Or Franklin, because that's a really cute name plus it's the name of the owner of the park.
Or Stanley, because Stanley the seal is a nice alliteration.
Or maybe you go with an Inuit word for a name, the ones that sound coolest (Tomkin, Massak)
Or Vancouver.  Nanaimo.  Johnston (after the Strait).

At some point, the list is whittled down to four names from which to select.  And you're really excited because you know you've picked some good ones.  The list is revealed after many weeks of consideration:

1) Franklin
2) Tomkin (Inuit word for where spirits gather)
3) Vancouver

and.....

4) Pumpkin Pie

GIVE IT TO ME, BABY!

"Whaaaaat!!!!" you exclaim upon reading the final name choice.  "That is RIDICULOUS! Who thought of that!?"

Your calmer, more rational mind takes a hold and tries to calm your emotional side down.

"There, there," it says.  "No rational group of people would ever think Pumpkin Pie is appropriate for a seal."

The great Facebook naming contest begins.  Or Twitter.  Or whatever.  And slowly but surely, the names gather votes.  Pumpkin Pie is not only in the lead by a long shot, but it comes with a lot of great comments from its fans.

"cant wait 2 c pumkin pi!"

"OMG WHAT A CUTE NAME!!!!"

"What a cutie! #pumpkinpieisbestsealnameever  #ppie4life"

You helplessly watch as the general public chooses the final name for that adorable seal pup, knowing full well that for the rest of his life he will come to the name of the most delicious dessert around.   I mean, it's fine, right?  Because his name doesn't in any way affect the care or love he receives. 

Aside from naming contests, you know what else blows my mind on like a daily basis?  

Animals who have very plain, human names of people I work with or see on a regular basis. 

His name is Kevin.

I love it when animals have human names, like Alvin, Phebe, Nicholas, Webster, Sebastian, Kyle.  I don't know why I love that so much, but I do.  

However, sometimes my blond brain gets completely upended when I work with both animals and humans with the exact same names.  It's provided some most excellent (and very confusing) humorous situations when I try to figure out WTF is going on.

The first time I encountered this was at my first paid job.  I worked with both a trainer and a dolphin named Denise.  There weren't too many confusing experiences with the two of them, with the exception of occasionally someone would say, "Who's doing the show?" and the answer was "Denise" and we couldn't figure out right away which taxa was being referenced.

Since I've been at my current facility, I've had a lot of completely misunderstandings.  

Kyle, our male sea lion, also happens to be the name of one of our former trainer's boyfriends.  Once in a while, something like this would happen:

Trainer: Hey, I need to go for a few minutes, I have to go see Kyle.
Cat: Oh okay, is he out in the parking lot?
Trainer: Uh, no.  He's in the south habitat?
Cat: asldiguaosdivaosg78o9w8egtkahsdvliasudgliu

What are you doing in the parking lot, dude?

This also continuously happens with a sea lion and and employee named Cory.  Cory (human) has been at this particular facility for something like 16 years.  He's a former Marine, a sweetheart and  in his early thirties (I should mention he's single, ladies!) and has done just about every job short of working with the marine mammals.  Since I've known him, he's been an aquarist and most recently he took a job in the maintenance department.  He is a jack of all trades, but he is also the Scuba Dive Guy. 

Cory is a sea lion who has been with us since the early 2000s.  She was born at Zoo Atlanta and when she was one year old, moved to MAP  (the facility tragically destroyed in Hurricana Katrina) and is in her early 20s.*

Sea Lion (not Human) Cory

I can't tell you how many times I mix these two up in scenarios people are describing to me.  My brain creates great mental pictures of this confusion, too.  

One day, someone said to me, "Hey Cat, Cory's in South Habitat.  Should we clean in there?"

I imagined Cory sea lion, sleeping in her usual spot in that habitat.  I was like, "Uh, we clean in there all the time with sea lions.  Is there a reason you think we can't?"

"Well Cory's just blocking the door with all these paint equipment in there and I didn't know if it could get wet."

My brain instantly pictured this old female sea lion amidst her pile of paint supplies, warning all trainers away so we wouldn't ruin her precious cargo.  And then I realized they were talking about Human Cory.

Jenna Marbles gets it

Another time this happened was when I came back from my weekend but had to organize the day.  So I asked all the trainers at our morning meeting, "Hey where is Cory?", because we had been shifting her into different habitats to socialize one of our new sea lions.

"I think out by the dumpsters."

Again, mental picture: Cory Sea Lion helpfully taking out the trash.  And then the realization that they didn't know to which Cory I was referring.

But the best story I have recently of this mix up was of Patty (the subject of my last blog).  We indeed have a Human Patty, too.  She is our finance/HR type person.

During one of Sea Lion Patty's extreme trainer preference episodes where she hadn't been eating from almost anyone, we had an issue with our time clock machine.  This machine will not work under circumstances such as: humidity, heat, and/or daylight.  So everyone's time card was getting really screwed up, a problem that fell into Human Patty's jurisdiction (Sea Lion Patty made it crystal clear she wanted nothing to do with payroll problems).

Such as payroll

My boss was out of town while all this was happening, so I was the next in charge to help mitigate the issue of the Picky Sea Lion and the Ornery Time Card Machine.   In between the other things I had to do that day, I was checking my phone to keep in touch with my boss who was getting emails from vets, the general manager, and other staff members about all the aforementioned problems.

Here's the text conversation:

Bossman: How's the day going?
Me: It's going well, busy.
Bossman: What's going on with Patty?
Me: She's eating well today!

Eatin' good.

And then I didn't hear anything back from him for a few hours.  I figured, hey, he's satisfied with the fact that our only potentially problematic animal situation was resolved, that Patty had found a trainer she could eat from and we didn't have to worry about anything medical right then.  

So I continued on with the day, until I checked my phone and saw a text:

Bossman: What??
Bossman:  I meant did she figure out the time cards?

I started laughing uncontrollably.  I realized my boss was asking me about Human Patty, not Sea Lion Patty.  I can only imagine what HIS mental picture was when he wanted to know what was "going on" with Human Patty and the only response he got from me was that she was eating well.  As if I was carefully monitoring all of Human Patty's food intake, because hey, I sure as hell wouldn't solve problems on an empty stomach.

Speaking of food, here's another important reminder that it's OCTOBER AND PUMPKINSSSSSSS

I think I've just resolved myself to accept that animals with the same names as coworkers is always going to confusing the heck out of me, but luckily it's usually hilarious.  And the other good thing is that this doesn't happen very often; three shared names is a lot (I think) for one facility, but it's still only three names.  If we start hiring people named Emerald, Chopper, or Oreo, then I'll be in for some serious brain malfunction.  So for now, I'll enjoy the bizarre images my brain forms as it struggles to discern Human from Marine Animal.

What about you guys?  Do you have this same problem?  Share your story and we can all laugh (or cry at our simpleton-ness) together!



________________
* She is also single, but prefers to remain that way

The Middle Flipper Is (Part 12)......

...the pickiest sea lion in all the land.

Meet Patty.

Hello!

I can hear all of you collectively "awwwwing" at your computer or phone screen.  Why? Because Patty had an adorable face.  You know what else she had?  Here's a little list:

* Charisma
* Smarts
* A lovely singing voice
* A beautiful blond coat
* Sass.  Lots and lots of sass.

Patty was a 32 year old California sea lion who was rescued as a pup, like so many others*.  Perhaps because she received excellent, doting care when she was such a young gal, she did precisely what she wanted, when she wanted.  She underwent a mastectomy for breast cancer when she was 30, pulled through like a champion, and went on to tell Planet Earth that she ruled.  Despite being mostly blind at her ancient age (30 years old for a California sea lion is the equivalent to a 90 year old human), her eyes were always bright and ready.  She vocalized a lot in short, staccato-like pulses that resembled normal sea lion sounds but were orated with confidence.  There was no, "BARK BARK BARK".  There was, "Bark.  Bark bark barkbark? Bark....bark!  Bark bark bark bark?"  Or, "Bark."  Simple, elegant, definitive.  God I wish I knew what she wanted to tell us.

I met Patty in 2013.  She was one of the first sea lions I ever got to know well, which surprised some of the veteran trainers at my job.  Why? Because Patty was picky.  Very, very picky.  She had a long history of hand-selecting her trainers.  In some cases, she only saw one or two trainers for extended periods of time, so I'm sure that didn't really help her be open-minded about her human servants.

Yes, my queen.

When I started to learn what Patty was all about, I witnessed her show this extreme differentiation between trainers.  You know, it's not like pickiness is unique to this particular story.  We all know an animal who has a stronger relationship with someone that isn't us, right?  Or an animal who knows how  to yank our chains and have a good time at our expense.  That's part of the fun.  It's also an important element to any animal training program, so we can all cultivate strong relationships with our animals.

In most cases, when an animal chooses to leave a trainer in a scenario likely related to differentiation issues, there isn't much to write home about.  It goes something like this:

Cat: Hey Sally the seal! Good to see you! Let's get started with-
Sally: No, thanks.  Bounces off

Or maybe something like this:

Cat: Hey Penny the penguin! Target!
Penny: How about I take 67 seconds to target?  Or what if I spin? How about a nice spin?

So you go back to the drawing board and really try to build up your relationship and all is well and good in the training world.

But when Patty had a problem with her trainer, oh, you knew it.  You couldn't be in the same habitat without knowing when Patty was making her Selection (or ha ha, Rejection).  Like a Grecian goddess descending from Lofty Heavenly Heights with Ire and Conviction, Patty dramatically left her trainer and barreled her way in the shortest distance between two points: her current trainer and the Chosen One.  If you were in her way, too bad.  She had an agenda that could not be stopped by the biomass of a human being.

An actual photo of Patty searching for a preferred trainer.  

The first time I saw this, I don't remember who her actual trainer was.  I just remember being in the habitat, with three other trainers interacting with sea lions, and hearing, "Heads up! Patty's coming!"

I look over at her, and here she comes, waddling at 98 miles per hour towards Favorite Trainer Number One (herein referred to as "FT1"), who happened to be working with our oldest male sea lion, Kyle.  When Patty arrived, despite the best efforts of all other trainers involved, the feisty lady parked herself at FT1 and gazed upon her with wide eyes.  "Bark. Honk," she said.   Nothing could break her concentration, so we had to end the session and try again.

So when I started getting to know Patty, we all assumed that she'd have a rough time getting adjusted to the new blond in town.  But surprisingly, we got along right off the bat.  I don't know what I did or didn't do that got me in Patty's good graces, but I relished it.  She never chose me as Favorite Trainer per se, but she never left me.  We had a jolly old time.  We ran around, we played games, I marveled at her incredible resolve as a cancer survivor at such an old age, and I giggled at every definitive bark and honk she shared with me.  I was in pure animal trainer bliss.

We were so happy together in those days!

And then.

Something happened.  What it was, I still don't know.  It remains as mysterious as the third gunman on the grassy knoll, Atlantis, or why Lindsay Lohan is still a thing.  No one may ever know.  But something happened and I went from being Patty's friend to NOT FRIENDDDDD.

Patty would've blocked me on FB for sure.

At first, this differentiation was business as usual.  While I felt a little bit sad that our special relationship was no longer valid in the world of Princess Picky, I knew that this was part of her thing and in a weird way felt honored to experience it first hand.  We went through the normal motions of working through a major differentiation problem.  You know, pairing successful trainers with me, reinforcing Patty for interacting with me for brief periods of time by letting her go to Favorite Trainers.   But nothing worked.  And what was normal at first quickly turned into a Mystery Of Great Proportions Laced With Great Insecurity About How I Smelled.

DON'T JUDGE ME!

Look, it's okay if an animal isn't the biggest fan of me.  I mean, I'd love to have the best relationship ever with every animal ever.  While I will strive to figure out how to make every animal's life special and good and wonderful, I also know they are individuals and have a right to be like, "Eh Cat, you're okay but you're not my favorite."  I mean, we don't all get along the same way with every human, right?  The animal can have a choice, and in the vast majority of cases (errrr, okay, in every case in my experience EXCEPT what I'm about to tell you), you can put the time, effort, and respect into each relationship and at least get a GOOD rapport, even if it's not one that has the greatest connection ever.

So if an animal goes through a period of time where they just aren't that into me, I don't let it destroy me.  I let it motivate me, so I can figure out what I can do to build trust and respect from that animal.

Patty showed me that there was a limit to that perspective.

After all, Patty's perspective was the only one.

Not only would she not eat from me or emit behaviors with me, she wouldn't go anywhere near me.

"No duh, Cat.  If she didn't eat from you, why would she go anywhere near you?"

Good question, dear reader.  Let me clarify.

If I were in the habitat with another sea lion, and happened to wind up near Patty, she would leave her trainer to get away from me.  

Any attempts to get me to feed her a half of a capelin while standing next to another trainer proved impossible for a good long time.  The second I'd get close to Patty, especially if I was upwind of her, she'd break focus with her Favorite Trainer, open her little nostrils, sniff the air, turn her head towards me and do one or more of the following things:

1) Spit her fish
2) Chuff
3) Sneeze/snort/projectile launch sea lion boogers and that molasses-like substance that coat their teeth and gums
4) Dramatically throw herself off of her seat and plunge into the water, never to return

Here is Patty, after letting herself into her favorite hallway, refusing to do anything for anybody.  

One day, I decided to do some enrichment with another group of sea lions.  To do this, I had to be in a hallway that joins all of our sea lion habitats together, allowing us to easily move animals around. I leaned against the wall of the hallway which led into the habitat I wanted to put enrichment in, and I remained there for several minutes playing with and observing the sea lions.

An hour or so later, I went to Patty's habitat with several other trainers to do a session.  One of Patty's Favorite Trainers (not FT1, but FT2) started off on a great start.  She decided to work on Patty's gating, and asked her into the hallway I just talked about.  I watched as Patty energetically and vocally followed FT2 into said hallway.  FT2 was giving rapid fire SDs, bridging every behavior because Patty was doing so great.

I got into my session with the sea lion I had, until I heard Patty Snort and Chuff.

"Heads up, Patty's coming back in!"

I look up and see Her Royal Highness's hallmark power-waddle into her main habitat and slosh dramatically into the water, leaving a perplexed FT2 in her wake.

"I don't know what happened," FT2 said.  "She got to this one part of the hallway, sniffed it, then left me!"

This can't be happening, I thought.  "Where did she sniff?"

FT2 described to me the exact location where I had leaned for a few minutes just an hour ago.  And suddenly, any self-confidence I had disappeared.  I must smell really, really bad.  I looked down at the sea lion I was interacting with, a very old but sweet sea lion.  I wanted to ask her:

Me: Star, do I smell that bad?
Star: Oh honey, it's not bad.  It's special!

Star, foreground, looked and acted like a Sweet Old Lady and helped me get through the dark Patty Rejection Times.

Think my remote smell is bad?  There were also several occasions over several months where Patty would stop eating from FT1 if I passed by her and the wind blew the right way. Like, she'd have a fish in her mouth, smell me, and immediately eject the fish like it tasted like poison, or worse, a mushroom.

....this is eerily close to what Patty looked like around me.

The trainers all opined at length about what could be the cause of Patty's distaste in my very existence in her world.  She was having more minor incidents with other trainers, but nothing to the extent that I was experiencing.  In fact, as far as I'm aware, I hold the record for Worst Picky Patty moments.

We came up with lots of hypotheses, all of which were debunked (but for your entertainment):

1) Was I too loud?
2) Was I too quiet?
3) Was I too strict in my training?
4) Did I use different laundry detergent?
5) I'm a vegetarian; does that give me a weird hippy smell or something?

I felt like I was permanently in Patty's Burn Book, with no clue as to what put me there.  From August until the end of December, I had not a single successful incident of even being NEAR Patty without her announcing her great displeasure.  We charted it on an excel spreadsheet, I avoided going near her for a time and tried to slowly approximate myself back into her sphere of influence.  Alas, nothing worked.

Oh look! Cat's on every page!

And then, almost as quickly as it started, the differentiation stopped.  She started interacting with me as if nothing had ever happened.  I actually felt like crying from happiness when I had a successful session with her, starting with 0.0004 seconds of interaction with a Favorite Trainer and quickly progressing to full sessions with her.  She was bright-eyed, she was attentive, she talked my ear off.

Then, on Christmas Day in 2013 at the very last session, the assistant supervisor and I noticed Patty having difficulty breathing.  Over the next few days her condition deteriorated quickly, which as you can imagine meant that she'd only give her Favorite Trainers the time of day. But only that lasted for a couple of days, and soon she stopped eating from anyone.

We had to get her medications that could alleviate the reason why she had breathing difficulty.  While we couldn't know for sure what exactly was going on, we knew that she had fluid in her lungs.  The medication would reduce or eliminate the fluid and make her feel like her old self again, but we knew this was likely a condition related to her very old age.  We had to find a way to get Patty to eat the meds.

Alas, even FT1 was unsuccessful.  Patty, being the sassy CEO of sea lions that she was, did not hide her irritation with us entering her castle.   It got to the point where we had a hard time cleaning her habitat because she blocked us or tried to chase us out.  I'm sure this had something to do with the fact that she felt like crappola, too.  But we knew this was a very serious issue.

Patty with FT1

Who, oh who could feed Patty and bring her back to her old self?

One of her former trainers, now the director of our Life Support Systems, used to be one of her primary trainers.  He above all others was Supreme Favorite Trainer (SFT).  So we asked him, can you try to get Patty to eat?  Patty hadn't seen SFT in at least two years, so we weren't sure how this was going to go.  But we had to do something.

I don't know how all of you guys out there imagine perfect meetings of lost lovers occurring, like if you hear violins or something or picture some Ryan Gosling movie scene.  But whatever you imagine, that's what happened when Patty saw SFT.  The years of absence meant absolutely nothing, because she lit up when she heard his voice.  She leaned into him when he reached out to give her shoulder rubs.  She started talking again, something we hadn't heard in a several days.  And she ate.  After two days of nothing eating anything, she ate like it was no big deal.

And it feels so good.

So SFT got her the meds consistently each session, and we saw Patty's quality of life exponentially improve.  Knowing that SFT had other things to do than be at the beck and call of the animal training department (oh you know, like Life Support stuff, or taking a day off), and that Patty would only benefit from at least getting some of her old FTs back on the roster, we started approximating her old cronies back into the mix.  It didn't go well.  Patty wanted nothing to do with anyone other than Supreme Favorite.

So what did we do?  Well, as I mentioned, Patty couldn't see very well.  But boy could she smell.  So her FTs wore SFT's jacket, entered the habitat quietly, and tried not to talk (or talk in a low voice like SFT's) which worked for a little bit.  We all felt like ninjas walking in there, gazing upon Patty as she sunned her beautiful blond fur waiting for her human servants to try their best to earn her favor.

Masters of Disguise we were not.

We even tried to have SFT talk to Patty on speaker on a cell phone while someone else tried to feed her (she saw right through that *%#@).    We eventually got some successes, but not without some clear signs from her that while okay, she'd eat from you, she'd REALLY rather eat from SFT.

Like this one time, FT2 went in (who had lots of success with Patty doing well for her since going on her new meds).  Her intention was to feed Patty, but let SFT give her tactile and hang out with her.  FT2 got off on the right foot, and nodded to me to let SFT into the habitat.  SFT came in, and Patty remained with FT2....until SFT spoke.  At this glorious manly sound, Patty stood up, shoved FT2 against the wall of the habitat so she could haul ass towards her True Pal.  She didn't hurt FT2 but for her feelings a little bit.

Exactly.

In the end, Patty started eating from most of us, even me off and on (for no rhyme or reason any of us could figure).

As I'm sure you guys have noticed, I've referred to Patty in the past tense.  At 32 years old, Patty passed away this spring.  Her cancer had come back and had metastasized; there was nothing anyone could've done.  It still makes me tear up just to write this, because despite whatever the heck I did that displeased Picky Patty, I miss her a lot.  I miss her Bark, bark, bark honk bark?  I miss how she used to lean forward on her lean with her giant eyes, and how she'd act so disgusted if she caught just the briefest sniff of me.  She knew what she wanted and went after it, not caring what our plans were.  I think about how much she lit up when she saw SFT, especially the first time they were reconnected, and being reminded of something we all know: the animals remember the relationships that mean the most to them.

The vets had never seen an animal survive metastatic cancer to the extent Patty had it.  She swam and sassed right up until the end, when I assume she decided it was time to shuffle the mortal coil and rule another, more ethereal realm.  A strong, confident, and intelligent woman who taught us all a lot of lessons and left us with lots to think about with her Middle Flipper events.  I'll never forget her.  And now neither will you. :)

<3

______
* California sea lion pups are starving.  Hundreds of them strand every year.  Don't believe me?  Check out any pinniped rescue facility, including The Marine Mammal Center, Sea World, the Pacific Mammal Center, and countless others along the west coast of the U.S. and Canada.

The Relationships We Cultivate

Relationship.  You know, the kind you build with animals. I've been thinking about this concept for a while now, and how trainers from different world views describe their rapports with the animals in their care.

I love this little guy!!

Similar to anthropomorphism, saying you have a good relationship with an animal can sometimes be taken as a No-No by a camp of trainers would call themselves behavioral purists.  I think this goes back to the concept that while we as trainers do use scientific principles to condition behavior, many of us go off the deep end once in a while and wind up with some really non-scientific beliefs.

I've addressed this issue of anthropomorphism animal emotion a number of times, and maybe you're sick of hearing me bring it up.  But it's a great example of what I'm talking about.   We seek to be clear and predictable in our training rules for the benefit of our animals so that they understand what the heck we're asking of them*.  This leads us to focus on the results of our training methods instead of making a wide range of potentially misleading assumptions about the goings-on in the animals' heads. We know the word "anthropomorphism" means "attributing human characteristics to an inanimate object or a non-human organism", so we urge one another to not anthropomorphize so that we can keep our training rules clear. And then...

This somehow leads us to assume that we as trainers never assume the mental state of our animals, which is of course ridiculous because we are always assuming we know what motivates the animals.  We use what feel like scientific terms to describe what's going on with our animals ("the animal appears sensitized to the sound stimulus emitted from the out-flow pipe") but what we're really saying is that we think the animal is scared of a sound based on our deep knowledge of their behavior and personality** ("individual history".)

This, combined with an outdated principle that humans are the only animals with emotions, creates a monster of misinformation despite best intentions.  It also clouds our vision as trainers.

I need this for me as a trainer like nine years ago when it came to terminology and the incorrect use of "anthropomorphism."  Also, is this badge a real thing?!

So how does this have anything to do with building relationships with our animals? 

First, ask yourself: what does it mean to have a great relationship with a non-human animal?  

Second, how do you build that relationship?

Here are my answers to those questions.

I think having a great relationship with an animal means that both he/she and I are attentive, focused, and (this is your warning, you non-anthropomorphizers! Get ready!) excited to interact with one another.  That doesn't mean that each interaction is action-packed and energetic.  It could be mellow and chill.  But more times than not, we have successful sessions that are fun and rewarding to both of us.  When that animal doesn't feel like participating in a behavior or session that is really important (like a husbandry behavior for a much-needed sample), or some crazy thing just happened like oh you know, a Ron Paul ReLOVEution blimp flies over the pool that is so scary it renders a dolphin completely unable to deal*** you are usually able to get that animal through the experience in a positive manner.  Trust is critical to a great relationship.  

I don't care what you say, you can't trust a raccoon.

And it's a two-way street, right?  It's not like the animals are little machines programmed to trust us if only we just remember to feed them and toss a ball around once in a while.  We give them input, they give us input.  If we do something that really isn't working for them, they'll let us know.  They're never like, "Oh, poor Cat.  She keeps throwing that football out for me but I HATE that dastardly toy. I just can't break her heart though, she loves it so.  So I'm going to pretend I love it and I'll play with it all day."

Or, "I HAVE BEEN CONDITIONED TO RETRIEVE THIS BALL THE SAME WAY EVERY TIME.  INPUT RECEIVED: BALL IN VICINITY: RETRIEVAL COMMENCE."

No, usually they are like, "Ughhhhhhh godddddddddd FINNNNNEEE I'LL GO GET THE FOOTBALL BUT IT WILL TAKE ME NINETEEN TIMES LONGER TO RETURN WITH IT THAN NORMALLLLLLLLLLLLLL.  I MIGHT EVEN DRAMATICALLY SIIIIIIGH OUT OF MY BLOWHOLE."

Blowhole sigh

A sign of a great relationship is that when one of you screws up, the other is okay with it up until a certain point.   One or even a handful of mistakes that you make as a trainer with a particular animal won't destroy a great relationship longterm; how many of you out there can think of an animal who's carried you through an interactive program where you keep screwing up because you've got a difficult guest?  You want to look at the animal and have an interaction like this:

You: Oh my god Mr. Seal, I'm SO SORRY I just totally focused on that guest for like three minutes while you just sat there so patiently.

Seal: Oh honey, it's okay.  I understand.  Usually you are so attentive, so I just figured I'd wait here.

What a nice seal.

That's not necessarily the case with an animal with whom you do not have a strong relationship, even if they are very well-conditioned.  Certainly, there are animals whose personalities and temperaments are just rock-solid: you could drop an atomic bomb next to their habitat and they'd be all like, "Oh, my, what a beautiful mushroom cloud!" no matter who you are. But there are plenty of other individuals who are not so laid-back and forgiving, so your screwy encounter may result in something like this:

You: Oh my god Mr. Seal.  I'm SO SORRY I just totally focused on that guest for like three--

Seal: PEACE! You suck!!!!

UH I GOOGLED "SCARY SEAL" AND THIS IS WHAT I GOTTTT.  SEAL ion?

So onto the second question: how do we build a good relationship?

Other than TIME (can you tell that's important?), of course.

This is where the real juicy part of this blog lives, and in this juicy part exist Two Camps.  For the sake of argument, I'm going to grossly stereotype these camps and then we'll unpack this idea later.

Camp Numero Uno: The So-Called Behaviorists

How sciencey!

These are the trainers who pride themselves on crisp operant conditioning. They have strict criteria, they do not use anthropomorphic terms and so their sentences are exceedingly careful (and long!) when describing how an animal responds to certain stimuli.   They establish a relationship by using primary reinforcement, which they would describe as any unconditioned reinforcer and that limits it to about one thing: food.  After they consider themselves Significant to an animal by way of feeding them, they begin to systematically incorporate secondaries which they define as any conditioned reinforcer.

Relationships are a one-way transaction.  This Camp will often respond to questions by guests or other trainers about animal intelligence or emotion by stating that the animals respond to their trainers simply because they are conditioned to do so.

Camp Numero Dos: The So-Called Dolphin**** Huggers

Groovy!

These trainers describe their relationships with their animals using words like: trust, love, understanding.  Their criteria is only strict on paper; they want to make sure the animals end on a positive and know that each animal may have certain caveats in order to do their behaviors correctly.  They would rather the animal have a good time than to face failure (which isn't a word you'll hear flying around this camp).  Reinforcers are usually whatever the animal likes best, so a primary reinforcer would be defined as whatever the animal likes the best (perhaps reinforcers that did not have to be conditioned), and secondaries are ones that had to be conditioned.

Relationships are mutual.  This Camp will often respond to questions by guests or other trainers about animal intelligence or emotion by using flowery speech and talking about more ethereal, intangible facets of their bond.

Like srsly?

Is anyone just seething after they read those two descriptions and want to throw me a Middle Flipper?  I hope you are.  Why?  Because those are totally exaggerated representations of two very powerful ends of a spectrum.   Not to make anyone feel uncomfortable here, but lookit: we may not fully live in either of those Camps, but maybe we know which Camp we live closer to.  Does that mean it's WRONG to be in Camp One or Two?  Absolutely not.   But it means we probably related more to one of this descriptions, right?

And because we humans love love love to be in Camps (hey, we're social and cultural animals, so we're sort of hard-wired that way), it's easy for us to stand proudly in our own belief structure and criticize the Camp across the street.  I've done it, not that I'm happy or proud to admit that.   But I'm human, and have opinions.  And what I've learned is that really and truly, both Camps have great elements to establishing meaningful relationships with their animals.  And both have...well, faults.

We animal trainers don't have a devil and an angel on our shoulders.  We have Scientist and Animal Lover.

Poor Stock Photo guy!

I think the burgeoning scientist in us all occasionally comes out and whispers in our ear, "don't look too much like a dolphin hugger, it's not scientific."  And then the kind-hearted animal lover whispers in our other ear, "But does it have to be so cold and systematic? Those animals are unique individuals!"

And depending on who we surround ourselves with at work and in the industry as a whole, we listen to one of those voices more than the other.

But guess what?  Just because you're more of a Dolphin Hugger type doesn't mean that you don't adhere to strict behavioral principles.  And just because you're more of a Behaviorist type doesn't mean you don't fiercely love your animals.   How is that possible?  Because...

You can't have a great relationship with your animal without understanding him or her as an individual with emotions, needs, likes, dislikes, and a decent memory.  And you can't communicate clearly or establish solid foundations on which you'll build trust and respect without creating and maintaining solid, predictable behavioral goals.   You have to live in both Camps.

YES

Here's an example of what I'm talking about:

Let's say there's this flighty dolphin named Flora. In my experience, having worked at places on both ends of the spectrum, animals with anxiety and extreme sensitization do better when rules are initially and clearly laid out for them.  Not because the trainer Must Have Compliance, but so the animal knows how to follow the rules and how to clearly break them.

In Flora's case, we focus on the basics: her heads-up stationing, her response time to SDs, and how she responds to things that scare the living *#&% out of her.  You know, like if we accidentally hit our elbow on one of the floating docks, she freaks out for the rest of the session.  Or one time we blew our whistle underwater and OH MY GOD THE WORLD ENDED.  Also, she is the world's finickiest eater, so just getting her to eat her fish is a behavior in and of itself.

We could reinforce Flora for just being with us, heads-up stationing be damned! We could give her lots of extra help with that, focus hands, extra hand targets, just so that she'll be successful.  

But in my experience, I've found that has the opposite effect.  Instead of showing compassion and understanding to the animal, you're not actually listening to what they're telling you.  At the very least, you've superstitiously conditioned poor attention while they wait for you to give them the signal to sit up.  All this time, communication is muddled.  Is Flora's stationing that way because it's superstitiously conditioned like that?  Is it because she is unmotivated?  Is she sexual? Sick?  Wow, those are a lot of factors to consider.  

So if we focus on the tight criteria of the heads-up stationing, what does Flora learn?  Yes, that to continue with her session, she must be clearly attentive. It looks nice.  We get crisp behavior. That's only part of it though, and maybe not even the most important part.  

It ALSO empowers her to say NO very clearly to us.  If she is unmotivated (a very, very important situation to appreciate quickly as a trainer), she knows how to tell you that.  Boom.  Her stationing goes down the toilet.  If she isn't feeling well, whoa, there goes her heads-up.  

What once was, "Ehhh...that's just Flora....I think...." is now, "Wow, this is significant.  She is usually very attentive, so I need to pay attention."  You've given Flora an easy way to communicate with you.  

Communication is key, after all.

On top of that, all the work we do with Flora's criteria and teaching her the predictable, fair, and consistent rules of the game?  It takes any guesswork away from Flora where it's not needed.  Now she can focus that big dolphin brain of hers on fun problem-solving in training, or any games you create for her.   Suddenly, when she sees you coming to her habitat, she is eager to see what you bring next.  She has no reason to be anxious or flighty around you, because she knows what to expect from you.  She knows she only has to focus on the fun part of a training session, show, or interactive program.  And she knows you'll listen to her when she says no.

Do we just stick with the black-and-white of training?  Of course not.  Why?  Because primary reinforcement, as we marine mammal trainers define it, isn't actually the most motivating thing to Flora.  We can sling fish at her face all day and find out that had we just used that favorite toy (which, by the way, was never conditioned...she just played with it on her own), her learning and retention rate would shoot through the roof.  Once she knows us and our rules, she trusts us to use tactile as reinforcement, because she is a very tactile-motivated animal (another reinforcer that was never conditioned using food).  We take the time to observe her outside of session in addition to remembering what reinforcers resulted in better attention and learning rates.  We get to know Flora, instead of pigeon-holing her.  We use our Camp Two skills, combine them with Camp One, and get a powerful, lasting relationship that benefits both parties.

Let's all meet in the middle, because you just can't have a great training program without Fundamentals and Relationship.  They must exist together.  If you haven't tried it and think your program is great now, just think about how much more amazing it will be if you'd just take a few notes from the opposite Camp than the one you associate with more.   We can all be sharp behaviorists who dolphin hug, and not worry about scrutiny from anyone else.  The animals will thank you for it.



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* i.e. How they can control us like little puppets, because that's what they do

** Don't like the word "personality" when describing animals?  Even ethologists use this term.  A quick google search of "animal personality studies" will give you a good long list of peer-reviewed research publications in very well-respected journals. 

*** True story

**** Not actually limited to dolphins, obvi!