I’ve Hidden the Ball-Thrower. A Cautionary Tale
With many dogs it’s the chase that’s addictive
Pickle loves to chase a ball. He races down the field after it, spins in the air as it bounces and leaps up to catch it. Now 9 years old, his energy is still endless when fired up by a ball.
Ball-thrower, ball-launcher, ball-chucker users seldom ration their use—like five throws then put it away.
Pickle is an addict.
Even though we hadn’t used the ball-thrower for years (or so I thought), Pickle is still an addict. He always will be.
Certain dogs are prone to obsessing. Too much chasing the ball, run fetch drop, run fetch drop, run fetch drop… and the dog can become an adrenalin junkie.
With many dogs it’s the chase that’s addictive. Catching the ball and bringing it back is just necessary work in order to get the next “chase” fix.
It’s like life stops for the dog when the ball throwing stops.
Ball throwing goes on indoors too. The dog, often a Border Collie, will constantly drop the ball at the feet of anyone who will throw it. And people do. Over and over and over.
A lovely walk can become nothing more than all about the ball, fetching and dropping it to be thrown once more. The richness of the countryside becomes lost to the dog, who should be using his wonderful nose to explore the environment, to be sniffing the scent trail left by the dogs, other animals, and bugs who have passed this way before him.
There could be other dogs to meet and people to greet. But no. He has his ball.
His human becomes robotic also, mindlessly and continuously lobbing the ball with the ball-thrower.
Would the dog, freely out in the environment, alone without his humans, be doing anything quite so relentlessly repetitive?
The hunt would probably involve stalking the prey, chasing it, hopefully catching it, maybe eating it. Done. An exception may be a terrier clearing a haystack of rats, but even that would be over and done with quickly.
I find that dogs like Border Collies, who are bred to be patient and persistent, are most likely to obsess on balls — or anything involving concentration and focus.
A few throws with the ball-thrower and the Collie can be hooked.
Anything repeated over and over can be addictive, which inevitably causes stress.
As with any addiction, there is fallout.
Pickle, would chase a ball all day given the chance. However, without a ball, he is happily “Pickling.” I call Pickling what instinctively comes to him, which is running the whole perimeter of the field before zig-zagging across it. His tail is wagging as he explores with his nose. He may chase a pigeon, sniff out a mouse, or try to dig up a mole.
Pickle is a working dog. He needs to use his brain whilst exercising, not just mindless, addictive repetition.
Tony walks the dogs. A couple of days ago he took the four dogs out into the field as usual. Time passed. Then with a crash Pickle charged back in through the open door ahead of my other three dogs. He leapt into the large water bucket the dogs drink from — digging in the water, grunting and snorting, water flying everywhere.
Dripping, he did about 10 zoomies over the two sofas and around the coffee table. Then he jumped into the water bucket and knocked it over. The floor was a pond with a rug at the bottom.
Why had Pickle come home so manic?
I knew!
Without asking, I knew that Tony had rediscovered the ball-thrower.
Years ago I decided, based on the behaviour of many of the dogs I have visited professionally, that we shouldn’t do repetitive ball play with Pickle. Our ball-thrower was somewhere buried in the shed. Or so I thought.
He waits. He stares. Come on, THROW IT! He brings the ball back, drops it where it makes it easiest for the person to pick up. He runs off in anticipation of where the ball might land.
Isn’t ball play meant to tire the dog out and make him calm? Isn’t a tired, physically worn out dog a good dog? Fat chance! It’s the opposite.
Pickle acted possessed. Wired and reactive.
Pickle was on high alert for sounds for the rest of that day. The next morning he was still wired, getting vocal and excited for his breakfast, perfectly illustrating how stress chemicals, the Adrenalin and cortisol, had built up and remain for time in his body.
So, I have HIDDEN THE BALL-THROWER
No ball-thrower yesterday and no ball-thrower today.
Pickle has been out in the field with us several times, just Pickling. No balls.
Afterwards he comes in, has a drink, and settles.
Today the neighbours wheeled their bin down the passage. After just one token woof, Pickle settled again. No vocals before breakfast.
It’s taken nearly three days to get him back to his usual self.
If anyone reading this has a highly wired or working dog and uses a ball-thrower to chuck a ball repeatedly for their dog, just try something for me.
Try no ball throwing at all for a few days!
Your dog may find “doing his own thing” and withdrawal very hard to start with but persist. He may need to go cold turkey.
Just allow him freedom to explore and to sniff and chase things he finds for himself to chase.
This will result in a less wired dog who is better able to cope with all sorts of things life throws at him — from encountering other dogs on walks to being less destructive to not overreacting to sounds to waiting patiently for his dinner to settling peacefully… the list goes on.
Just possibly, also, no more chasing, leaping, and twisting for high and bouncing balls from a thrower will save him from future injury.
