Becoming a pack leader

This is my favorite picture that I've taken recently of Conan. :)

When we first got Conan in August 0f 2007, he was completely different from the Conan we know now. He never, ever, ever barked. For months, the only time I even heard his bark was when I ran the vacuum, which he was afraid of for some reason. (Now he loves to chase the vacuum and even likes it when I use the crevice tool to suck off all his shedded fur!) He was shyer, far more timid. He would never bark at another dog or person (except the mailman or UPS deliverer); he was always the one getting barked at. Eventually, Jarrod decided it wasn't normal that he wasn't barking and actually encouraged Conan to bark at people when they walked past the house. Then we moved to Del Rio, and Conan all of a sudden started barking certain dogs on our walks. Then we moved to San Angelo, and Conan all of a sudden started barking at certain dogs and certain people on our walks, specifically two ladies who got around with walkers and moms pushing strollers or pulling wagons. Toward the end of our time there, he occasionally would lunge and growl at another person for what I deemed "no reason." They appeared to simply be minding their own business, but somehow managed to offend Conan.

Then we moved here to Hawaii in October and Conan's aggression shot to a whole other level. He began snarling and lunging at any other dog we passed on our walks. Not only was this mortifying, but Conan is pretty strong and I've sustained plenty of scratches, smashed feet, arms ripped half out of the socket, and leash burns. And after we'd been here for a couple months, he began snarling and lunging at nearly all the people we passed on our walks. Mind you, I don't mean he'd growl at the person tending their garden up by their house who didn't even glance our way, but he'd get aggressive whenever another person was walking toward or near us. And sometimes, bizzarely, he'd lunge and snarl at someone for what seemed like no reason at all. One time, a kid on rollerblades skated up to us and started up a conversation about a beloved pet boxer his family had. Their dog had to be put down because it had gotten sick. He and Conan got along great, until the kid started to skate off. Then, out of nowhere, Conan lunged and growled at him, scaring the poor kid half to death.

The problem escalated so much in the past few months -- and so quickly -- that I started to dread walking Conan, especially at times when I knew lots of of other people would be outside. And I new instinctively that I wasn't helping the problem, because every time we'd see a person coming toward us, or whom we'd have to pass close to, my heart rate would go up and I'd feel anxious. I know how intuitive dogs are, and I could tell that Conan was picking up on my nervous energy. It created a vicious cycle (literally!). I noticed that his behavior on walks had gotten worse than ever since I came back from Florida (partly, I think, because Jarrod isn't here. Jarrod never has these problems with Conan, because Conan clearly respects him as the alpha of the family.) And my friend Jessica, who watched Conan for me, said she didn't really have any problems with him on walks. That lead me to a revelation: the problem must be me!

So I started reading one of the books by Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer. Turns out I've been doing everything all wrong. I think Conan's aggression on walks stems from three things:
1. My weak, unconfident, anxious "energy" (i.e. not calm-assertive, confident energy), causing Conan to view himself as dominant over me and feel the need to become my "pack leader."
2. Cesar thinks that most problems with American dogs are at least in part a result of their owners humanizing them. Obviously, we think of Conan as our furry kid. I even have a cute little decoration that says, "A dog is a furry person." Well, not according to Cesar! And his logic makes perfect sense. Dogs don't think like humans. They aren't humans. They're not better or worse than humans, just different. And it's unfair to them to treat them like humans, just to get the affection and attention that WE crave.
3. Not enough exercise and too much affection. Cesar talks in detail about how wild dogs would spend hours and hours walking and hunting every single day. Unfortunately, Conan isn't getting nearly as much exericse as he should, or as he has in the past. In San Angelo, we had a much bigger yard where he'd run and run and run every day. And we had a decent-sized neighborhood with plenty of walking routes, so we'd walk at least a mile everyday. Here in Hawaii, barely anybody has a "large" yard. Our yard is pitifully small for Conan, but it's better than what we would have gotten off-base. And our neighborhood is very small -- just a loop -- and the adjoining neighborhood is currently undergoing remodeling, so the streets are blocked off right now. And Cesar says most Americans give their dogs way too much affection. His model of what a dog needs is 50% exericse, 25% discipline and 25% affection. Conan has definitely been getting 50% (or more) affection!

I haven't finished the book yet (I got quite depresssed and frustrated and resentful and decided to put it down for a few days... I see where Cesar is coming from, but I don't necessarily agree with every single assertion he makes) but I've already started putting some of his advice in effect. It's very, very hard to start treating Conan differently after three years, and I don't feel like I'm a natural leader (I am constantly struggling with low self-confidence). But I am doing my best to assert myself as Conan's pack leader. I made him sit and stay seated as I put his collar and leash on. Then I made sure to exit the door before he did (Cesar says this is very important). I attempted to think confident, in-control thoughts and I made him walk next to or behind me the entire time, only allowing him to stop and sniff poles or bushes ocassionally (rather than him pulling me over to every single lamp post, tree or bush in the neighborhood). Any time he started to pull the slightest bit ahead of me, I tugged on his leash. He's pretty good at heeling anyway, but he'd still veer off whenever he wanted to pee on a pole or sniff something. And, miraculously, today he pretty much ignored all the things he normally stops to sniff. We passed three people and he barely even looked at them (granted, they weren't walking on the same side of the street, coming toward us -- those are Conan's most frequent victims). I also took Conan around the block twice, giving him some extra exercise, and didn't give him any affection until we got back inside the house. I felt it was a great success! I still have a long, long, long way to go to make him see me as his leader and stop being vicious to other dogs and people on our walks, but I feel like I made a great step forward today. Wish me luck!