Who Puts The FUN in Fundamentals? YOU DO!

I had a very nice exchange the other day with a former Middle Flipper guest author.  I've always enjoyed our chats about training and animal care.  In the latest bout of messages, he mentioned something about training fundamentals being a "lost art."  That phrasing inspired today's blog.  Thanks, Peter!

For those aspiring trainers who read this blog, you're gonna get a glimpse into the sorts of things you'll learn once you land your job.  If you like what you're reading, or wind up working for someone who has a similar opinion as mine, earmark this and remember it.

For the rest of us, think back to your early days.  Or maybe you're in your early days. So basically, tap into your long or short-term memory and let's get crackin'!

Unless you're Leonard from Memento, then you won't remember anything.

What are the first things you learn as a new trainer?  I mean aside from cleaning protocol and food prep.  What are the operant conditioning concepts you learn first?  

FUNdamentals.  Ha ha ha! Because they are so fun! 

Maybe you learned this as a different phrase: basics, foundations, primordial*.  It's all semantics for a concept that is critical for any new trainer to fully understand before they are set loose in the realm of animal training.  At least, that's how we (the more experienced trainers) tend to look at it.

Primordial setting, or primordial representation of dinosaurs? I don't know, you decide.

What do I mean when I say fundamentals?  I mean the basics, like:

* Control/stationing
* Gating
* Target work
* Cultivating relationships
* Consistent reinforcement and criteria

We spend so much time learning these things at our respective facilities when we are brand new.  We really become good pals with Fundamentals.  Once we've stopped barfing due to nervousness and start to realize, "oh my god, I can actually do this!", we embrace Fundamentals.  We hang out, get to know everything about each other,  think about each other when we're away.  Our skill set as a trainer grows by leaps and bounds.

An artistic representation of you (brown dog) and Fundamentals' (white dog)  friendship

And then, like any invisible friend, we start to lose interest.**  We move on to bigger and better things.  Establishing solid target concepts? C'mon, that's tedious.  We'd rather train voluntary bloods on river otters, or double hydros with dolphins.   As we gain more experience, we'd probably rather work closer with a challenging animal than an ol' reliable one.

Remember: YOU COULD BE THIS SAD TOO IF YOU KILL YOUR FRIEND, FUNDAMENTALS..

Plus, as we gain experience, we stop thinking about every little move we make and just kind of "know" what to do.  Let's call it Trainer Zen.  This gets better and better the more you practice it, the more you know the animal(s), and the more information or experience you glean from other trainers.  There are trainers out there with thirty years of experience who probably operate in Higher Planes at a supernatural level and/or The Force.  We're talking the Chuck Norrises of Trainer Zen.  I'm definitely not there yet, but after ten years I definitely notice a sense of ease in more challenging scenarios as time passes.

Baller.

I think that's the state that all trainers really want to get to, and fast.  But something happens when we achieve that Trainer Zen status.  We spend so much time with the "loftier" trainer concepts that we start forgetting (or worse, ignoring) the poor, lowly fundamentals.  Many of us trainers treat those foundational concepts like training wheels; once we are ready to rock, they fall off by the wayside.

Because we've gotten a solid grip on the basics, we can get through our careers without really thinking about them, other than briefly nodding at them as they huddle dejectedly in the corner.  This is especially true if: you work with the same animals for a really long period of time, without anyone new coming in, or if you work at one facility for a long time (or only at one place).  And, let's be honest, it's even more prevalent with us dolphin trainers.  Even when we train new animals because we have calves being born at regular intervals, we sometimes rest heavily on the fact that many dolphin babies learn their basics from their moms and other conspecifics.  There are certainly perks to working with observant social animals!

Don't short-change a dolphin calf! It's waaaaay more beneficial (and FUN) for both parties to thoroughly learn the basics!

But our Primordial Training Concepts are not training wheels.  They are the base to our entire program.  Taking several months (or even years) to teach a baby dolphin the "boring" or "simple" concepts like gating, stationing, targeting and just having good manners is time well spent, and time best spent with an experienced trainer.  You are not just laying the groundwork for no reason.  You are investing time in establishing solid communication between you and that animal.  And let's be honest, it's not just between YOU and the animal; it's a language you've given the animal to use with all other humans he or she will work with.  Most of us forget that we won't spend forty or fifty years with the animals we care for at work.  What we teach them, especially from the beginning, is what follows them for the rest of their lives regardless of our presence. 

Sometimes I think about training like it's learning a new language.  In the case of foundational training versus more advanced concepts, this comparison is especially true.  When you first start a new language, you learn basics like grammar and simple but helpful words that allow you to have a very rudimentary conversation.  Like in my French class, I was really excited when I realized I could walk into any store in a francophone country and ask, "How much is that calculator?"

As you progress, you learn more and more advanced concepts and more difficult words, so you're eventually able to express abstract thoughts, such as, "How much is that calculator and also what is your opinion on the current state of affairs in Israel?"

But there is never a point where you leave behind the basics you learned in the first place.  You do not merely reference those words.  No one says, "Yes, I'm so advanced in Russian that I no longer need to use pronouns.  They are too rudimentary for my level."

Indeed.

Of course that's not how we learn languages.  We build upon what we learn, but use almost all of what we learn at the same time.  Maybe we use less childish phrases as we learn more complicated ones, but for the most part, we utilize all the words we learn.  And that is exactly how we ought to apply training principles.

Don't misunderstand me: I know there are many different ways to apply training concepts.  It's not about just following the book to the letter.  That's too far to the other side of the continuum.  What I'm saying is that all of us trainers should consider, especially with new animals, new jobs, and challenging situations, checking ourselves to make sure we haven't gotten too lost in Trainer Zen.  Are we Zen-ing while we use the language of the fundamentals?  If yes, then awesome!

Also awesome.

When we remember to stick to the basic rules of training, and take our time (relatively speaking) making sure the animals fully understand their foundations before moving onto or incorporating the fun, exciting stuff, we ensure better communication with them.  We ensure ease, both for the animals and for us.  It also provides you a clear way of trouble-shooting.  Just like when we teach a new trainer why successive approximations are a better insurance policy for behavioral drift or flat out forgetfulness, focusing on fundamentals by letting our basics guide our more advanced methods allows us to remind the animals of what's expected of them when the behavior breaks down.  Short-cuts in training may be helpful, but rarely so when it glazes over critical learning opportunities for the animals.

Every facility is different in their goals, time frames, and priorities (other than animal care, d'uh).  We have to apply these ideas in a way that makes sense for us.  But we owe it to ourselves as trainers, and to the animals in our care, to check ourselves. One of the best ways to get back to basics is asking for outside input; experienced trainers from other facilities than yours,  no matter how Zen-like they are, often look at your situation through a Fundamental lens and usually can see things you didn't even realize were going on.  I think that's one of the best parts of this job!

So remember, fundamentals are FUN.  They are worth your time, especially as you gain more experience.  Rekindle your old friendship with them and see the amazing results!

Fundamentals on the right, Advanced Training on the left, and you in the back seat.    A triumvirate of perfection.

___________
* This word will, when I'm in charge of my own facility or department, be used as the official verbiage of our trainer development program (e.g. Primordial Training Concepts or whatever).

** Look, I've got a great rapport with my invisible friend.  Just because he's invisible doesn't mean he's not real.

The Best Career Decision I Ever Made

Okay, I'm going to tell all of you out there a secret.  Yes, all of you.  Not just the aspiring trainers, but the established trainers, too.  

I have found this amazing resource that makes me a better trainer.  No, seriously.  I've found it and want to tell you about it, because hello? Who doesn't want to be a better trainer?  Here's a quick list of what this resource lets me do:

* Improve my animal training skills

Skills such as: crouching for extended periods of time

Yeah, I learn a lot from the people and animals I work with and that is invaluable.  But my world is totally opened up by this particular thing.  I can talk to anyone in the world about questions I have, and uh, let me tell you I've had a lot of questions about training scenarios, habitat questions, and even career advice.  I can contact people directly or poll a bunch of trainers in an online forum about something.  Seriously, I've learned so much and have had the animals at my facility impacted directly by some of the awesome stuff I've seen and learned on this resource.   It's awesome!!


* Improve my management skills

We all work on Saturdays, anyway.

This resource basically outlines how you can develop a training staff.  It's standardized but flexible enough to apply to your own facility, which is great because not every place is the same.  Most importantly is the fact that it's critical for managers and supervisors to be on their A-game when it comes to training trainers (and that includes interns, too)!  You can't have a great animal care program without a dedicated, cohesive and motivated team.  If any of you out there are in any sort of managerial or coaching role, you know how much work it is (but it's the best!).  This resource I found actually gives you a strong foundation to stand on and build from there.  

* Network with colleagues AND the people I really admire (the gurus!)

I wish Dwight was part of my network. 

Okay, so maybe you've already deduced that this resource is great for networking because I just said I can reach out to trainers all over the world and get answers I'm having trouble finding.  But it's one of my favorite things to meet new people, stay in touch with them, and in some cases collaborate on projects with people I've never met in person.  Yet we can create a lot of positive change at our respective facilities!  Plus, there are definitely people in this field who put stars in my eyes, and this resource lets me actually connect with those people.  

* Attract awesome people to my facility whether interns or trainers

I mean, if this isn't an example of a great team, I don't know what is. 

This resource is a super, super easy to use if you're looking for interns or trainers to hire on at your facility.  You get the best of the best, because not just anyone can look at the job postings you put up there.  And remember the whole thing about networking?  Yeah, you don't just do that with your gurus and colleagues.  You can meet and make meaningful rapports with prospective employees and and interns, too.  That's a pretty amazing tool to have, considering how important it is to hire the right fit for your team. 


* Helps me keep up with conservation topics

Like this poor dolphin in the Tampa area, who you can read about here

Why are we all ultimately in this field? Yes, of course we adore the animals at work, but don't we all have a driving passion to connect to the general public?  To hopefully inspire them to connect to these animals and the plight their wild counterparts face?  But if I'm being totally honest, sometimes I get overwhelmed by all of the issues that require conservation efforts.  Don't get me wrong, each one of those issues is important and deserves a solution.  But there are so many (and how sad is that).  This resource I found highlights conservation efforts and puts them right at my fingertips, so I can easily keep up with them and stay informed.  Yet another way it helps me be a better marine mammal trainer.

* Oh, and I get to go to cool conferences

Wait, who's that on the right? If you guessed "Some chick playing Trainer Jeopardy", you're right!

A massive perk, to say the least, that also allows me to do all of the aforementioned items I've just listed.

So what's this mysterious resource I'm talking about?  This resource to which I credit my personal success in this field?

Oh yeah!

If your answer was International Marine Animal Trainers Association (IMATA), you're a winner!  (And if you guessed something else, that tells me you know another really awesome thing that you need to tell me about ASAP)."Ohhhh puh-leeze," I can hear some of you saying.  "IMATA? Is this like a commercial for IMATA or something?"

Don't be like that!

No, seriously, it's not.  Obviously, I'm partial to it because it really has made me a better trainer.  It MAKES me a better trainer.  In fact, no lie, I am in the process of connecting with other facilities right now to try to help out a training issue we've been having at my current facility.  I use IMATA's online forum and directory all the time, and have since I was an intern.

Still skeptical?  You know, I've heard people say some weird things about IMATA and get kind of defensive when they explain why they aren't members of it.  Most of the people I've worked with at four other facilities use the resources IMATA offers members on a regular basis, so when I hear about other trainers who are all like "Whatever!!!" about it it really shocks me.  Here are some of the things I've heard people say:

"IMATA is just for finding a job, and I already have my dream job."

Yeah, samesies

Congratulations! Yeah, IMATA can help you find a job.  And if you are working at the Best Place Ever in your estimation, that's awesome!!  However, you're not going to be the best trainer you can be if you cut yourself off from other facilities, trainers, and training styles.  I don't care how big or small your staff is, or how innovative your team is.  Maybe your facility is state-of-the-art, or you've been published a zillion times.  The thing is, once you cut yourself off from learning from other people, you've stifled your potential.

Between the three of us, we've worked at nine different facilities (not including our internships).  That's a lot of shared experience and different perspectives.  These are just two people who are not only amazing friends, but have contributed to my success and learning as a trainer.  

IMATA is not just for finding a job.  It's finding other people you can inspire, who can inspire you, and in some cases get you out of a rut.  This isn't just for animal training stuff, either.  If you have anything to do with developing trainers or interns, you can talk to a bunch of other people about it in whatever format you want.  What about enrichment ideas?  Do you think your Dream Job has all the good ideas in the entire field?  C'mon, no way.  That's why IMATA is awesome; you connect to those new ideas AND you provide the same inspiration to someone else.

Buuuut it is a pretty good resource for getting internships and jobs.

"You only join IMATA to go to the conference, and I don't want to/cannot go."

The conferences ARE fun.  But there's way more to IMATA than the conference.

Bahhhh why do people say this?  The conference IS awesome, and no it may not be easy to get to for some of us depending on our personal circumstances.  But after all of the benefits I've talked about in this blog, can we all agree now that IMATA is not just about the annual conference?


"It's too expensive!"

Trainers be broke, it's true.

I'm not one to judge people's personal finances.  I also know we marine mammal trainers aren't driving to work in a Rolls Royce convertible every day (I usually just drive mine on my weekend).  Some of us eat dinner out of a can.  I totally get that, and everyone's circumstances are different and not for anyone to judge. 

But... it's a priceless career resource.  Depending on where you're at in the field, you're looking at spending $40 to $75 a YEAR.  A year.  I'm not very good at math, but I think that's more manageable than it seems for many of us.

Let's use me as an example. There's this amazing donut place near where I live.  I LOVE donuts and try to eat them as often as I can.  My favorite donut costs $0.80.  If I get one of those every day, each day of the year, then I spend $292 on donuts.  OMG wait, that's a lot of money.  I SPEND ALMOST THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS A YEAR ON DONUTS AND I AM NOT ASHAMED.

You're worth every penny. <3

I digress.  I spend $75 a year on my IMATA membership.  That basically amounts to saving $0.26 a day for a year.  That's easy.  I could find that in the street each day.  Come to think of it, I could probably fund an IMATA membership for two years if I took all the random coins in my car and actually organized it.  

If you can spare a quarter a day, it's WORTH the expense.  It is.  I've been in the field 10 years and I am a supervisor at a small facility.  That means I made my way up the ladder relatively quickly...and I did it largely in part to using many of IMATA's resources.  And I still use them just as much as I did when I first joined and was clambering for my first internship.

"But I really don't need to network."

Get out of here.

This makes me so sad when I hear trainers say this.  I know they are touting their awesome workplace and great management.  But it's not just about YOU getting cool insight from other places, it's about you sharing your own experiences with other people.  It's a two-way street, and the more people (especially people who are happy at their facilities!) are involved with IMATA the larger and deeper the idea pool gets.

Plus, you can catch up with old friends!

So yes, you really DO need to network.  For yourself, and for the rest of us who want to hear what you have to say!

And the IMATA conference?  That's just like the icing on the cake.  If you only make it to one conference your entire career, it's worth it.  You'll make at least one new friend.  You will be inspired by at least one presentation.  You'll get to see how another facility does its thing on a site visit.  Plus, it's never a bad time when a bunch of animal trainers let loose.  What does all of that do?  It directly benefits the animals you go home to; you're bringing a fresh perspective and new ideas back to those guys.  

The day we as trainers stop wanting to improve ourselves as animal trainers and caretakers is a day we have to re-evaluate our career decisions.  IMATA is the easiest way ever to keep that fire stoked.  It is the best investment I've made, and the best resource I've found.  I credit much of my success to it and want all of you to have the same experience!

What are you waiting for? Join IMATA!

Animal Training Misadventures -or - Another Story Where I Screwed Up

There are distinct moments in my career where time feels like it slows down and everything burns a little brighter.  Why this phenomenon doesn't happen during awesome amazing events I don't know, but I lament it.  The experiences where this Time Slow occurs are almost always ones in which I've made a mistake and/or when the poop hits the fan (and in this job, sometimes that's actually what happens).

Well said.

The good news for all of you dear readers, is you get to benefit from my misadventures and laugh heartily at them.  Some of you will probably laugh and cry at the same time, because you can relate your own stories to mine.  Not that I enjoy other people's emotional pain, but I am a proponent of the whole Misery Loves Company concept. 

In animal training and zookeeping, there are a lot of Rules we gotta follow.  It's actually amazing how much we have to remember in a given day, or even moment, because most of us can barely find our keys in the morning.  As an aside, I'm about 89.3% positive that we animal care professionals have brains like computers.  The brain RAM required to remember all of the rules, daily operations, and guests' names is so intense that it leaves basically nothing for us to use for our Outside Of Work Life*.  If I can remember what I want on my burrito for dinner AND to brush my teeth in the same night, that's a win.

An actual photo of me at the end of a typical work day.  I'm not normally that furry but sometimes I just let myself go.

As animal trainers, we additionally have to remember all of the big and small rules/quirks/lessons of each individual animal.  We have to be on our A game every day not just for the benefit of the animals having a good time, but to ensure everybody's safety.  This is especially true for the animals who can really take you to the cleaners**, like sea lions.  Knowing who they are as a species combined with who they are as individuals is critical for everybody to have a good ol' safe time.  It's when we as trainers forget the slightest little thing that the animals say, "Oh hey, looks like you slacked just the teensiest bit, LET ME TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO TEACH YOU A LESSON AND THEN LAUGH ABOUT IT AS YOU PICK UP THE PIECES!"

Now, let's clarify that I'm not referring to making a serious mistake. This blog is not about getting so complacent that you put yourself or someone else (including a non-human) into serious danger.  This is about those rules like, don't leave that bucket too close to the edge of the habitat or else Delilah the dolphin will help herself to all the snacks inside of it, and then she will think you're charmingly stupid for the rest of your employment.

Move, Lily. You're in the way of my lunch.

This type of situation happened to me last summer with one of our sea lions named Tina.  I've already written about Tina, because she is one of the animals with a larger-than-life personality and is a member of Mensa.  She uses her brainpower for debauchery whenever she sees an opportunity, but she's a sweet soul.  She'll have a great time with you, but every now and then she needs to remind you that she's in charge.  

Crazy eyes, yes.  But they see everythiiiiiinnnnggggg

One of her penchants is to mouth things.  There is something about shredding up something that gives her great pleasure (except she does not do this to humans, which is I'd say quite polite of her).  Quite unfortunately for the local wildlife, Tina also seems to enjoy killing sea gulls using the same brutal technique she's perfected in destroying her food, ice cubes, and target pole buoys.  

All of us who interact with Tina know her Rules: reinforce her variably for not shredding her fish or ice, choose her toys carefully and reinforce when she doesn't try to destroy it, and shoo away any birds that land in the habitat because they are on a countdown the moment they are within Tina's reach.  These rules are followed very consistently, and we rarely have problems with her destroying very many things.  

But.

Look at that face.  Ready for trouble.

One day, I had a blond moment.  And it happened to be during a show.  A packed show.

I was having a great time with Tina.  She really steals the show, and it's so much fun to be up there on stage with her listening to the audience react to how awesome she is.  You're just along for the ride, as the trainer.  Those shows are a total blast to do as Tina's Professional Assistant.  I was really in my Trainer Groove too; variable, crisp, totally on the same wavelength as this amazing sea lion.  

Please observe all the Fun We Are Having.

As I've already mentioned, Tina has a history of shredding her capelin into tiny little pieces so she can eat the stomachs of the capelin last (yes, you read that correctly: Tina loves capelin haggis...how worldly of her).  One of the many ways we've worked to extinguish/reduce that bad habit is to be variable in how we deliver the fish to her.  And so, in my infinite wisdom, I decided during that Perfect Show to toss her capelin up in the air while she was in the water.

Oh wow, Haggis.  You look really...tasty....

She was really into that, which reinforced my decision and increased the frequency of my capelin-tossing behavior.  Up they went, down they came into Tina's eager and open mouth.

What's so stupid about that?  

Well, I work outside, in Florida....about 10 feet away from the Gulf of Mexico.  Know what else likes to hang out 10 feet away from the Gulf of Mexico?  

Who's laughing now?

Laughing Gulls.  Lots and lots of them, swarming and pooping and eating things they shouldn't.  They watch from remote locations for any possible food item to be unguarded for more than 0.0003 nanoseconds at which point they fly at Mach speed to intercept it.   

Even though I knew what would happen if a gull flew into Tina's life, I somehow didn't put two and two together when I was tossing this capelin up into the sky like some kind of overzealous flower girl. It didn't take long before an opportunistic gull dive bombed the raining fish and found himself in a very, very bad situation.

The moment my brain registered that this poor laughing gull was in striking range of Tina, and that I had lured him there was when the Time Slow happened.  Because it wasn't enough knowing exactly what I was about to witness in normal speed; no, my brain had to slow it down for me so I could experience every terrifying and possibly gruesome second in all its horror so that I'd have a crystal clear memory of this scenario for the rest of my life.  

oh. my. god.

I had tunnel vision.  The only conscious thought I could muster over the internally screaming I was doing was, "maybe Tina will miss" as I watched the sea lion launch herself out of the water, mouth agape and eyes wide with concentration at the unsuspecting sea bird.  But no.  Her mouth closed around the bird's delicate legs with surgical precision.  The gull's eyes widened in fear; he didn't have time to scream as Tina fell back into the water, dragging him with her into what I was certain would be a watery, torturous death.

Yeah, this is basically exactly what it was like.

My brain raced.  I had made a terrible mistake.  Not only that, but as the supervisor...I made a big rookie mistake, one that I'd probably have talked to another trainer about had they done the same thing (which no one did).  I felt so stupid, so guilty.

I stared the swirling sea lion, toying with her prey just beneath the surface of the waves for what seemed like hours.  I had to do something.  I glanced around to my right, where the other sea lion (Molly) was.  Molly has the soul of a saint trapped in a sea lion's body, so I wasn't worried about her going after the gull that Tina had, but I didn't want to assume she was fine before I made my next move.

At this point, the audience's attention was fully locked on me, staring helplessly into the water.  We all knew what was happening.  I was convinced that every single guest at that point was watching me and wondering why I didn't Do Something to save the gull.   I'd be the next famous villain on Instagram, the Trainer Who Let The Sea Gull DIE and that'd somehow connect me to Blackfish because, like, all of us trainers are pure evil and want animals everywhere to suffer.

We could replicate this exact scene where zookeepers are the "witch", and the village idiots are the extremists who annoy us all the time, and it would be accurate and just as hilarious.

Tina surfaced for a quick breath, so I called her name to redirect her.  I didn't expect it to work, but yet again I was wrong because she totally stopped and looked up at me.  I called her out of the water. I don't know what exactly I'd done right up until that point, but somehow Tina's attention fully returned to me and I was able to quickly gate her to another habitat without her giving a second glance at the sea gull, wherever he was.  You might say it was good training decisions that allowed me to get her out of there, but I am pretty positive Tina was thinking one of two things at that point:

1) "Oh, that poor Cat, making such a silly mistake like that.  I think she's been punished enough."

or

2) "Bahahaha that dummy! I'm going to follow her around because she'll probably screw up again to my benefit!!  Mwahahahahahaha!" 

Yes, clap for yourself Tina.  You must be very proud of yourself while I hang my head in trainer shame.

Luckily, I didn't eff up again.  

When I came back from gating Tina, I realized that the show narrator was still going full steam ahead on the show, but the audience refused to take their focus off of me.  That is, until the unfortunate gull popped up. Alive.  Gasping for air.  And right against the plexiglass closest to the packed audience.

I couldn't leave that gull in there.  I didn't know what his condition was; he was too far away for me to see if he was mortally wounded or not.  I also didn't totally look forward to handling a very injured, very traumatized sharp-beaked bird, but there was no other option.  If our guests wanted a show, they got one. Another trainer had brought me a small crate, which was now also on stage.  I jumped in the water and swam slowly over to the wounded bird, so I wouldn't scare him more than he already was.  I looked up briefly at the audience and saw their wide eyes looking at me, with the lilting voice of our charismatic narrator attempting to continue on with the show like nothing was happening.  No, there was no sea gull attacked by a sea lion.  No, that's not the dumb trainer who baited the gull into the waiting jaws of said sea lion.  THE SHOW MUST GO ON.

Exactly.

It was like the swim of shame.  If this bird was fatally injured, it was my fault.  As I gently reached out for the gull, I hoped I wouldn't feel its little body crushed beneath my fingers.  Luckily, all I felt was his beak latching onto my hand and trying to bite me as hard as he could.  Unfortunately for him, sea gull bites are not very painful at all.  A good life lesson for all sea gulls to learn: ditch the biting and rely on vile aerial poo attacks as a method of defense.

Although being bitten by these guys probably upped my pain tolerance for bird bites .

I swam the critter back to the stage, where the task of getting him into the crate provided the park's best, most memorable entertaining moment of the day.  Abbott and Costello's skits were mere child's play compared to the farce that occurred as not one, but two of us trainers tried to stuff this injured bird into a crate on a slippery sea lion stage.  I was on my knees with my face basically at level with the crate and the sea gull's snapping beak.  The crate slipped and slid on the stage surface like snot on a door knob, despite the other trainer holding it steady.  

With the gull's beak latched onto my hand, I was able to distract him just enough to finally get most of his body inside and then quickly (and without a shred of grace) slam the door shut and lock it.  Success!  I picked the crate up, and exited the stage.  And the show continued with poor, shy Molly.  

Molly is a showgirl in her own right.

I had to pass Tina as I left with the sad sea gull.  She merely glanced at me through the gate of the habitat she was in, as if to say, "Oh, that old thing? You can have it."  

The poor laughing gull had only a broken leg and was taken in quickly to a wildlife rescue facility a few minutes away from the park.  He was fine, but probably will never frequent my place of employment again (which....let's face it, is good for all parties).  I sheepishly explained to the staff the series of mistakes I made to lead to such a fiasco and welcomed the laughs.   Yes, I wasn't thinking clearly and luckily, nobody was seriously hurt.  And the park guests that day got to see one very unique sea lion show.  

Do I remember the Happy Life Altering Memories like birth of my child or the last time I ate a chocolate frosted donut in this clear fashion?  No, of course not.  Not enough RAM for that.  But those silly lapses in judgment, especially when everything ends well, are critical points in our careers.  We can laugh about them after the fact, as long as we learn from them and don't make the same mistake again.  

As for Tina, she doesn't need her trainers to screw up to get her a sea gull.  She's perfectly capable of figuring out how to bait them herself.

K bye!

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* Which accounts for roughly 9 hours a day, 8 of which is spent sleeping.

** Which is another errand I keep forgetting to do, so if any animal feels like actually taking me to the cleaners, I'd really appreciate it or else this dry-cleaning pile is just going to get bigger.

Chris Pratt And The Clicker: What's The Big Deal?!

Here's a question:  What is the word, repeated four times in rapid succession has the power to bring animal trainers everywhere to their knees?  

Answer: Click.  As in "clickclickclickclick."

I know you were pissed that Vader was your father, but improper bridging is just more troubling.

For those of you unfamiliar with what I'm talking about, you either haven't seen Jurassic World or you became delightfully lost in the narrative that you just didn't let it bother you.  But chances are, Chris Pratt's bizarre clicker usage had you clawing your ears off.*

...but this redeems him, so he is pardoned.

We've all had a jolly good time poking fun at the Hollywood blockbuster's technical advisor failure: had they talked to an animal trainer for about 0.3 seconds, they would've done it right.  I mean, look at the other popular animal training movies over the past twenty years: Free Willy,  Zeus and Roxanne, Andre, Dolphin Tale (so I'm a little bias in using marine mammal movies).  All of these movies had major flaws in them when it came to accuracy with what our job entails, but those were all forgivable.  We know that good storytelling often involves exaggeration or whimsy.  But none of those movies had such a blatantly incorrect usage of a bridging stimulus.

They look so simple to use, and yet....

So what!  Did it ruin the movie for me?  Um, pop quiz:

What did Jurassic World have?
a) Dinosaurs
b) Chris Pratt
c) Nods to Michael Crichton's fervent belief in not screwing around with nature and
    advancing science conscientiously
d) All of the above

The answer is D, so therefore I LOVED THAT MOVIE.   Clickclickclickclick and poor timing isn't going to take that away from me.  But it did bring up an idea for a blog. 

One of my favs.  You should probably buy it.

I've heard non-trainers exclaim something like, "WHY are people freaking out about a stupid clicker in a stupid movie?  Seriously?? What's the big deal?"  You know, because our community made hilarious, en point memes and videos about it.

Oh.  OH.  It's a big deal to us.  The sound of sloppy bridging makes us weep instantly.  Let me explain why.

"Wait! Does anyone know how to use this thing?"

Animal trainers everywhere have developed a fine ear and eye to observe behavior and respond accordingly.  Those powers of observation are not just for the animals in their care.  Like Neo in the Matrix, once you know about Animal Training, you can never un-know it.  You see the world completely differently and that's a fact of life.  Trainers observe all animals, human and non-human: the behavioral Matrix so to speak (minus the whole robots-turning-humans-into-batteries thing).

One of the very first skills a trainer learns is how to bridge properly.  

Also, how to obsessively check that your whistle hasn't fallen off anytime you are near an open body of water including but not limited to: habitats, swimming pools, the ocean, toilets, etc.

For anyone reading this who doesn't know what a bridge is, it's a signal that pinpoints the exact moment an animal does something correctly.  Usually, the bridge means, "Great job! Stop what you're doing and you'll get a reward."  Sometimes, it means, "Great job! Keep it up!" and the animal continues to do whatever he or she is doing (these animals have learned that their reward will come later in that particular context).   And the reason we call this signal a "bridge"?  It's short for "bridging stimulus", and it refers to the fact that you're bridging the gap in time between when the animal is doing the correct behavior and when they will be rewarded for it.   Blah blah blah, terminology.  The take home message is that the bridge tells the animal that they did the behavior exactly correctly. 

The importance of the bridge is if you use it correctly, it is the fastest way to clearly communicate with the animal.  Most animal trainers use the bridge to mean "YES", and not "sort of!" or "almost there!"  That might seem a little mean, but it's actually for the animal's best interest.  

Whistle Face: it's a legit affliction.  

Why?

Well, think about it.  Since you can't verbally explain anything to your animals, you really only have one tool like a clicker to let the animal know if they're on the right path.  Let's say you're working with a dolphin who knows a front flip.  He's learned exactly what he needs to do when he's asked for the front flip to get his favorite football.  So you ask him for the flip, and he is really, really slow to actually DO the flip.  Yeah, the flip looked great, but it took him a really long time to start.  That's not part of your criteria, so what do you do?  Especially when he zooms back, pops up in front of you and looks super psyched?

You could bridge it.  I mean, he tried so hard.  Maybe something happened underwater that slowed him down.  Maybe he just is having one of those days, like all of us do.  The rest of the flip was great, so can we really penalize him for that?  

Therein lies the problem.  Looking at it like you're "penalizing" him would bring any empathetic trainer to the conclusion that they should bridge sub-criteria behavior.  Because the animal was trying so hard, you don't want to hurt their feelings or discourage them.

Oh, and if it's not Whistle Face, it's the Unintentionally Stern Point Bridge.  HEY YOU, IN THE GREY.  

But what's REALLY happening when you bridged that sub-critera flip?  You communicated to that dolphin, "Hey, change of plans, from now on, be real slow to do that flip."  

Think about how frustrating that would be to an animal trying to figure out the rules of the training game.  One day, he's supposed to do x,y,z to get his football.  The next day, the rules have changed.  Instead of him feeling encouraged, he feels frustrated.  He doesn't know your intention (and our jobs would be totally different if we could communicate that), he only knows that whistle you blow tells him "YES!! ALL OF THAT GOT YOU THIS FOOTBALL!" so he pays close attention to EVERYTHING he did to get you to blow that whistle.

Oh? Is my whistle still there? Phew.  There are more photos of me checking for my whistle than they are me using it.  And if you think this is me getting ready to use it, you are incorrect.  That dolphin was deaf, so we didn't use a whistle as a bridge.  No, it's really just me fondling my whistle lanyard.

Or maybe, his flip was really perfect, but you keep screwing up when you're blowing your whistle (a la Chris Pratt).  If your bridge is too late (like the flip is over, and now Mr. Dolphin is swimming back to you when he hears the whistle), you will likely - over time- draw so much attention to the wrong part of the behavior that Mr. Dolphin will start focusing on THAT instead of what you originally wanted.  

Poor bridging leads not only to behavioral breakdown, but WORSE, it leads to animals getting frustrated, discouraged, or in extreme cases it can cause avoidance (of certain trainers, behaviors, etc.).  Obviously, it's crucial that all trainers use their bridges properly.

There's just no good whistle face.  

For that reason, all animal trainers are really tuned-in to bridging stimuli.  Not just how it's delivered, but the TIMING of it.  Whether or not to bridge and timing are arguably the most important elements.    

Here is a highly-accurate account of the sequence of thoughts that were going through the heads of Animal Trainers Everywhere when they saw Jurassic World:

1) What the *#%( is that sound?
2) OMG.  That was a bridging stimulus.
3) WHAT A FARCE! Such awful timing! Like seriously?
4) Holy crap.  I fear for Chris' safety.  With such horrendous use of that clicker, he definitely has some confused and frustrated raptors.  Someone needs to fix this!

Portrait of a blowfish and Whistle Face ex situ.

As you can see, we are really just worried about human and animal safety and mental well-being.  The fact is, if Mr. Pratt really was training raptors in this fashion, they'd probably not give him the time of day.  They would've probably eviscerated (or worse, avoided) him in the scene where he goes all Free Contact with them.  Why? Because he completely slaughtered his only real tool to communicate.  Yeah yeah, he could just cut the bridge out and just toss slabs of meat into the raptors' mouths as they emit the behaviors he asked for, if his aim and timing are perfect.  But relying on food for training...like if it's your only reward?  C'mon, we as a field do much better than that.  And there are many behaviors I can imagine are totally impossible to feed immediately (like when the dinos' bodies and heads are restrained in that cage-like thingy). 

Chris Pratt's character may have a gentle touch, he may have the best intentions, but ultimately he pulls the proverbial rug out from underneath the raptors.  All because of clickclickclickclick.   The good news is, with just a tiny adjustment in timing, Chris' raptors will be happier, more cooperative, and will learn a lot faster.  I mean, if they weren't almost all eaten by larger dinosaurs.  Better luck next time, sir Pratt.

Sea World, here I come!

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* What, you didn't do that?