The Bad Egg

You may remember reading about my first unintentional attempt at testing The Dog’s ability to not eat chickens. It was a suprise success.

The chickens decided this week that they are too big to be carried back and forth between the coop and run. Since I am master and commander of my backyard, I decided to speed up my Training Timeline a bit.

This morning, I let the dog stay outside with me.

I put The Dog on a “Down” command and opened the coop door. I shook the food bowl. The chickens immediately came to the opening, doing their chirping-stretching thing. The chickens were 100% focused on the food bowl. I was focused on The Dog. And The Dog? Yes, absolutely absorbed in the chickens.

I shook the food bowl again and stepped backwards from the coop. The Dog shuddered in excitement, I called out a firm, “No!” He remained still.  One chicken hopped onto the ground about three feet away. The Dog didn’t move! I did my “chick-chick-chick-chick” call to encourage the other two to come out.

They did.

Right on top of The Dog’s head.

The Dog shuddered. He quivered. He perked his ears up. He tensed all his muscles.

And he stayed down. No jaw-snapping, no charging, no jumping.

I let the chicks wander around the yard a bit, then shook the food bowl and walked to their run. I allowed The Dog to stand and take a few slow, sniffing steps towards the chickens as they meandered through the grass and into the coop. I sounded out some firm No’s when I felt he was moving too close. He backed off.

What did the chickens think about all this? They really don’t see The Dog as a threat any more (evidenced by them jumping onto his head). They were more interested in digging through a dirt patch or nibbling on some grass. They could care less about the 75 lbs of quivering muscle standing three feet away.

This could mean one of three things: it’s a sign I’m the best dog trainer in the whole world (aka Master and Commander of my backyard), the chickens are stupid, or The Dog is the best pound puppy mutt in the whole world. You decide.

The chickens decided this week that they are too big to be carried back and forth between the coop and run. They squawk, run their chicken legs in the air as I hold them, and wing-flap like crazy. The point of carrying them had been to keep them out of The Dog’s mouth while still acclimating The Dog to the chickens. 

This doesn’t work so well if the chickens keep trying to jump into The Dog’s mouth.

To circumvent any violence I’ve started locking The Dog in the house while moving the chickens. The chickens know what their food bowl looks like and come running when they see it in my hand. I open the coop, shake the food bowl at them and walk towards their run across the yard. They come chirping and hopping down and through the grass and straight into where I set the food bowl in the run. 

This is such a happy domestic poultry scene–except my dog is locked inside. He’s taken to whining and jumping up on a table to look through the window at me and the chickens. Not really conducive to training him to be a Dog Guardian.  

But don’t worry. I have a plan.

My ultimate goal is to allow the chickens to free-range (not be in a run) in the backyard while The Dog protects them from predators. This means the dog needs to be trained to not eat them.

Some of you may think trying to teach a dog to NOT chase/eat/hurt chickens is impossible!

Well, it may be a Herculean task, but it’s not impossible:  Training Anatolian Shepherd Dogs for Poultry Guarding.  The link is a great narrative of one woman’s experience with training her purebred dogs not to eat her poultry. I do not have a purebred dog. I do not have a dog I’ve acclimated to chickens since puppyhood.  Yet, it is my firm belief that pound puppy mutts will ALWAYS be better than snooty purebreeds. I mean, I did save The Dog from death row. He owes me.

So with the above belief firmly in place, and with The Dog being the best dog in the whole world, I’ve set up a basic training timeline:

1. Acclimate the chickens to the dog, and the dog to the chickens. That means the dog is with me when I feed the chicks, clean up the coop, move them between the run and the coop–but I do it all in such a way to minimize any chance of the dog getting within touching/biting distance of the chicks.

2. He gets a firm “No!” EVERY time he displays a hint of aggression towards the chicks. If “No!” doesn’t work, I roll him belly-up and do the topdog, you-must-submit-or-else, stuff.  This has been so effective, my “No” is now all I need to make him freeze in his tracks. Sometimes giving him a hard stare is enough to make him lay down in submission (although I don’t trust either to work 100% of the time).

3. Continue to reinforce the above until the chicks get their adult feathers and put on a couple of pounds.

4. Construct scenarios that keep the chickens safe while setting up The Dog for failure. Give correction as needed. Continue until The Dog stops failing.

5. Allow The Dog to spend time with the chickens in the backyard, free from any barriers, under my supervision.

6. Allow The Dog to spend time with the chickens in the backyard, free from any barriers, unsupervised. This would entail trusting The Dog to act as fulltime guardian, instead of predator.

7. Enjoy several years worth of excellent tasting eggs, where the chickens and dog coexist peacefully in the small Eden I’ve created out of my backyard.

I’m pretty sure I will accomplish #1 through #5.  The last two … well, I’ve always dreamed big.

In the last three weeks, we’ve reached the point where I feel comfortable leaving the dog unsupervised in the backyard when the chickens are in their wire-and-wood run.

I spy on them through the window sometimes to make sure everything is cool. Most of the time The Dog lays in the shade and watches the chickens from a distance. No noticeable predatory behaviour.

During the last week, The Dog hasn’t even spent that much time outside, preferring instead to remain inside the house with me (I work from home).

Yay!