The Slippery Doodle. No, that’s not a typo for the Slippery Noodle Inn, the blues bar in downtown Indy. It’s a nickname for Yogi, my parents’ Goldendoodle. This is my latest moniker for him because he’s such a slickster that he can steal food off the counter practically right out from under your nose. (Truth be told, I’m actually more likely to hang out at the Jazz Kitchen but that place doesn’t lend itself as well to a clever nickname.)
Mom masterminded a way to keep Yogi off the counters by setting up mouse traps on top of stacks of papers. The idea was that if the papers were moved then the trap would go off, scaring the dog without hurting him. No one was harmed in this experiment. Yet, how often were the traps set off by Yogi versus someone else? Let me just say one number is zero and the other number is not zero.
Yogi’s biggest transgression to date was eating an entire loaf of homemade cinnamon bread that my Mom spent all afternoon making. He’s also recently gotten a box of cinnamon rolls, and a package of Hawaiian rolls. The bread zone is now barricaded with a wire cookie rack wedged in front of it—a cage for the baked goods. This seems to be doing the trick. For now.
Clearly Yogi is not on a low-carb diet. Or perhaps he is, which is why he acts the same way a human would in the same situation. Mom is very particular about not giving him people food as she doesn’t think it’s good for dogs. She will read a label and say that since it has high fructose corn syrup it might make him fat. I try to explain that it makes humans fat too. Breaking news: People food isn’t really good for people either.
(Interesting to note that Yogi was having some digestive reflux issues, and the vet suggested that his food bowl be placed off the ground so that he isn’t leaning so far over when he eats. Mom covered a couple of end tables with a rug and placed his dishes on top. It looked like a table set in a fancy restaurant. She then put a vase of flowers down to complete the look, and naturally took a picture of Yogi in his dining nook.)
So why does Yogi persist in counter surfing? Let’s delve into psychology for a moment. I’m a fan of the theory of operant conditioning. If you’re not familiar with this concept, it is all about prizes and punishments to influence behavior. The best way to form a habit is a positive reward, in which you get a treat when you do something right.
The most powerful version of this is intermittent variable reinforcement, whereby you don’t know exactly when you’re getting that payoff. This keeps you going and going until you do get it, which might be right around the corner or after many more tries. This is why gambling is so very addictive because you keep waiting for that next hit, even though in the meantime you could be losing your metaphorical shirt.
Back to our furry friend. Yogi jumps on the counters to try to get stuff. There are many times when he leaves empty handed, and he might get a stern “Off!” or “Down!”, but there otherwise aren’t any dire consequences. Yet once he hits that motherlode of a whole loaf of carbohydrate-laden perfection, then that action is permanently wired into his canine cerebellum.
What’s the obvious way to solve this? Only leave spinach on the counter. Or Swiss chard. Or kale. Don’t have anything out that the dog would want to eat so he won’t be tempted. This has the added benefit that you aren’t displaying food that humans want to eat either so you cut down on people snacking. Everybody wins!
Until you take Yogi for a walk and have to wrestle a fast-food wrapper out of his maw. And then watch him wriggle out of your grasp just like the Slippery Doodle he is.
