New Shoes: How to Harness the Power Of Novelty For A Happier Dog

Last year, a friend of mine (who really, really gets me) bought us both some new shoes. They’re Schitt’s Creek themed...yeah, we’re both fans, ok?...and simply adorable. When my pair arrived, I tried them on with a bit of trepidation, never having bought internet shoes before, and who would have guessed it: a perfect fit! Apparently I have remarkably standard-issue feet? They arrived early in the COVID-19 pandemic and around the time when the resulting quarantine orders were announced, so they sat, in the hopeful and squeaky clean way that new shoes have, on my shelf. I certainly don’t wear clean, new, and fun (to say nothing of white) shoes around my farm, with the preponderance of depositions to be discovered with any casually misplaced step. And with the pandemic raging, I didn’t have a lot of “town days” in which to show them off. 

Well, it’s true that I didn’t have a lot of town days, but I did have a few. One day, a vet appointment meant an unplanned and somewhat urgent trip to town. As I grabbed a mask, a leash, and my car keys, I considered whether or not to wear my new shoes. I considered whether or not to wear my new shoes for a very brief moment before slipping on another pair, that is. I wasn’t sure what the news would be from the vet (all ended up being well, thank goodness), and I know enough about how animals learn to know wearing the shoes would be a bad idea. 

A bad idea for me, I mean. I am an animal too, of course, so the whole “how animals learn” thing actually applies: I share much of my dogs’ learning capacities and cognitive tools (although I do have a few more as well—at least I hope I do). If I had a dreadful experience the first time I wore new, special, noticeable shoes, I knew I would probably find it hard to avoid making an association, and offloading a bunch of feels on the shoes, to the point that I might not want to wear them ever again. And I knew this because of one important factor: novelty. 

Novelty is “the quality of being new and unusual. It is one of the major determining factors directing attention” (APA Dictionary of Psychology). The shoes were new and interesting and salient, which means I would pay attention to them, and I would learn, that is, remember what they mean to me. If they were tied up in a predictive relationship with something terrible, even spuriously, they could become tainted. So instead, I wore the shoes when I was able to see dog training clients in person again, when I met a perfect young dog with gloriously easy to manage problems. 

You might be wondering if I’m ever going to chassé my nicely shod feet on over to the point of this article, so here goes. You almost certainly have control over a large majority of the novel stimuli (new stuff/sounds/sights/thingers) that your dog encounters, or at least the second part of the whole “when a new thing happens, this comes next” equation. For dogs, novel stimuli might be a loud bang from a garbage truck, a new harness, a new Hallowe’en costume you make for one of your human kidlets; anything that is new and unusual, from your dog’s perspective. It is well within your means, at least most of the time, to create a good, positive association here. When you notice your dog noticing something new, follow it up with something good: praise or patting if they like it, or better yet a food treat, even if you have to run to the treat drawer or fridge to get it. You can help your dog form positive associations with things that might startle them or even just things they’ll notice. You can prevent your dog’s version of Fun New Shoes from becoming the emotional harbinger of Dread And Dismay. This is a particular kindness when the new thing is itself a bit worrisome (like the loud noise of a truck backfiring) rather than essentially neutral, but it doesn’t hurt to fill your dog’s brain to the brim with good, kind, delicious associations to the things they encounter. A novel stimulus that is followed by something awful (like my vet trip could have been) can cause learning that is very hard to undo, and cause an emotional response that can be both tenacious and awful. 

Don’t allow a crappy experience to come after a dog is introduced to a new thing they’ll meet again, because they may just learn a predictive relationship and find the new thing to be awful all on its own.

Just as I’m in the habit of protecting my own stuff from earning a negative and terrible association, I’m in the habit of helping my dogs to find new stuff predictive of good stuff. It’s minor and easy, and helps to build resilient, confident dogs.

Now if I can only make sure that protecting my own stuff includes protecting my own stuff from being carried out the dog door and gnawed on, we’re golden.