Camera Shy To Camera Guy — Dog Training With Kristi Benson

Mischa is a sled dog who recently became scared of having his picture taken. This could be a really easy fix, you might be saying. Just put the camera away when he's around. Presto chango. And you'd be right - locking away my camera forevermore would have kept him feeling safe. But he is (like everyone's dog, I would argue) a perfect-looking creature who deserves to be the subject of numerous poorly-executed photographical attempts. In sum: I really wanted to take his picture. So I trained him to love the camera using the power of Pavlovian conditioning.

How did you change a scared dog's mind?

You might remember Pavlov from any introduction to psychology in school. He was the scientist who found out that you could train a dog to salivate at the sound of a bell by consistently following the bell with food. We're co-opting Pavlov's approach, but instead of the bell we'll aim to make Mischa salivate - in other words, anticipate hopefully - when he sees the camera.

First, I separated the camera into its constituent parts: lens cap, lens, and body. (Later, I would even separate out the sound of the shutter release). I put the lens cap into my pocket along with a baggie of really good dog treats. Then, I went into stealth mode. When Mischa was least expecting it, I showed him the lens cap, let him sniff for two or three seconds, and then rained down ten or twenty treats, one at a time.

• Important Part One: Mischa did not know it was coming.
• Important Part Two: Mischa saw the camera lens first, for 2-3 seconds. I stood as still as a statue during this part.
• Important Part Three: After he'd seen the camera lens, I then gave him food. Lots of food. Lots.
• Important Part Four: He never saw the camera without then getting food. No pictures, period.

To make sure I got Important Part One right (Mischa did not know it was coming), I also showed him random non-camera items in the same way - approaching, putting my hand in my pocket, and pulling it out. I showed him a small metal owl statue. I showed him a tape measure. I showed him a spoon. None of those resulted in treats. I wanted it to be really clear in his mind: the lens cap? THAT meant treats. Everything else, like me walking up to him with my hand in my pocket? That was meaningless.

I think I can do this. When do I move to the next step?

Once it was perfectly, patently obvious that Mischa loved the lens cap (he saw it and jumped up, wagging, drooling, searching for his food, eyes jumping from my face to my pocket), I moved on to the lens. He caught on, and came to love the lens. Then I tried the fully assembled camera itself. This took much longer than I had expected - weeks of few-times-per-week training. You can almost certainly guess why. Mischa had seen a camera before, and it worried him. So we carried on slowly, and I was careful to never raise the camera to my eye or take a picture, not yet. I just showed him the camera, let him sniff and investigate, then fed him.

How much do I feed him when I show him the item?

Lots. Or as they say in Manitoba: Really Lots.

Note: Trying to move quickly when dealing with a fearful dog is never productive - two brash steps forward, five fearful steps back. Going at the dog's pace, however tortoiselike, is paradoxically faster. A couple of times I tried to rabbit ahead, and Mischa told me so by turning tail and leaving. I knew to drop back immediately to an easier step.

OK. He loves the camera. What next?