A little History Lesson
I often see Samoyeds advertised as having little prey drive, which usually raises my eyebrows. Even the official German breed description mentions low prey drive, but how accurate is it, really? Of course, all dogs are individuals and some lines are less likely to be prey-driven than others, but looking at the history of this ancient breed can give you a few clues. Traditionally, Samoyeds were used as herding and hunting dogs – amongst other things. Prey drive is essential for the hunt and herding drive is nothing but a modified prey drive that has enhanced certain stages of the hunt. Given their breed history, a prey drive in Samoyeds should not come as a surprise.
Every potential owner has different criteria for what they want in a dog. I personally draw the line at drooling, others could never imagine owning a prey-driven dog. I understand their reasoning, but if I could change a single thing about Banshee, her prey drive would not be it. The truth is that over the past year, I have come to admire it, despite our ups and downs in training. When I first realised how strong my dog’s prey drive truly was, I admit I felt inconvenienced and disappointed, but the more I learned about the nature of prey drive and the more I watched her perform the hunt safely, the more I fell in love with that side of her. Do I love the fact that she would kill an animal if given the chance? No, and I will do whatever I can to prevent it from happening, but watching and analysing her behaviour gave me a much deeper understanding and appreciation for this primitive breed.
How it all started…
Banshee showed some signs of prey drive as a little puppy, but it began to spike during adolescence, which is when these instincts usually manifest and dogs begin to understand that chasing animals looks like a lot of fun. Even though Banshee has never had the opportunity to go for a full chase and complete all stages of the hunt on a living animal, the instinct is there. I didn’t want it to come so far. When my Samoyed was a bit over a year old, I discovered Predation Substitute Training and I have been implementing these training methods ever since. For those of you who don’t know what the training entails, here is a short explanation: These methods teach your dog to practise the safe stages of the hunt while the “unsafe” or “undesirable” stages (such as chasing wildlife or killing it) are substituted with games instead.
I love this need-based training method and Banshee has responded incredibly well to it so far, but it’s not a magical recipe for immediate success. The tools and games necessary for this training have to be taught and built up over time, but while you’re building up their skills, there will be situations your dog is not ready for, management might fail, or the adolescent dog will regress. As with any good training method, it takes time and patience even though you might see little successes fairly quickly.
Prey Drive is not always Fun and Games
Which brings me to the incident that inspired this post. Banshee and I have celebrated a lot of training successes lately, such as taking food in new and exciting locations, calmly watching a moving cat or observing a group of deer from a distance – and instead of going for the chase, engaging in play together. I usually know where to expect wildlife during what time of day and can manage accordingly, even though the occasional deer takes us by surprise. No big deal. It’s all part of the training progress. Today, however, we suffered a little setback and it’s probably not something dog owners think about unless their dog has a strong prey drive.
Every single day at lunch, Banshee and I go out into the garden to play and train. We play our favourite combination of fetch and tug, engage in hunting games, do some tricks, or practise her obedience. It’s our routine. Today, I had the end of her recall leash in one hand, her beloved rainbow piñata toy in the other, and a pocket full of treats. I always check the garden first to make sure the neighbour’s cat is not in sight and found nothing, but as soon as Banshee headed out of the door, she made a beeline for the bushes and I saw an injured dove try and fail to fly away. The hunt was over in a second and the dove was dead before I could react.
A muzzle is the only thing that might have prevented this, but as I was just about to actively play and train with my dog right next to the bush the injured animal had hidden in, there was no way I would have even thought to put a muzzle on my dog in that situation. Setbacks happen. Accidents happen. This is the reality of living with a prey-driven dog. I managed to recall Banshee from the dead dove shortly after and she came back happily, eager to receive her praise and reward. Why did I reward her? Punishment doesn’t work and makes no sense in this situation. The animal is already dead, the dog has already experienced the rush of dopamine (aka the best reward) that is released during the chase. Banshee did not dissect and consume the animal and instead chose to listen to my recall, which is a big success for a prey-driven dog and proof that our training to this day was not in vain. She came when called and received her reward for that and happily engaged in play with me after the incident.
When I told my mum about this later in the day, she texted me one thing: Bad dog! That isn’t the case. Banshee is not a bad dog. Not only do dogs not have a concept of right or wrong, but in her own head, Banshee was probably a very successful dog, having caught and killed her prey. For the few moments that she held the dead dove in her mouth, she looked as happy as could be and when she responded to my recall, she did so looking absolutely thrilled and joyful. I was a little disappointed by the bad luck (couldn’t the dove have hidden in the neighbour’s bush?), but I wasn’t mad at her. How could I be? She did what her instincts told her to do. Never forget – Samoyeds are among the 14 ancient breeds and have been around for several thousand years. A year of training can’t compete with instincts that are a couple of thousand years old, especially when the dog is put in a situation they’re not even remotely ready for. There was no time to think, no time for me to react, no time for Banshee to consider her options – she did what her DNA programmed her to do: hunt!
Living with a Prey-Driven Samoyed
For many dog owners, prey drive is just a word hidden somewhere in their breed description, others have battled some minor prey drive during the early years. For us, it is lived reality. Banshee’s prey drive is with us whatever we do, wherever we go. It is at the very core of her character and I know that many Samoyed owners feel the same. Ever since her prey drive kicked off during adolescence, I have read whatever I could about the nature of prey drive and what goes on inside the dog’s mind. I have also observed and even filmed Banshee engaging in prey-driven behaviours. And honestly? I’m fascinated.
I have watched her scan the horizon for prey as soon as we step out of the door or out of the forest and into an open field, I have watched her follow deer tracks with her nose, I have watched her perform pointing behaviours and flushing behaviours. And yes, I have watched her go for the grab bite and kill bite. Over the last two years, we’ve had instances where a mouse crossed her path and was unable to reach the safety of its hole in time, once she plucked a young bird out of the air mid-flight, and today she managed to kill a dove. It’s easy to forget that we share our homes with fluffy, cute-looking predators until these things happen.
Does that make our training unsuccessful? Absolutely not. Lately, we’ve had more examples of success than we had of failure in our daily activities and I am confident that we’ll celebrate even more successes in the future since she’s nearing the end of her adolescent period. Our goal is to avoid the chase and the kill when it comes to real animals and we are successful in that much more often than not.
Everything else, though? It is magnificent. I have come to admire and even love my dog’s drive when it comes to the hunt. I realise that most owners will probably disagree, but watching my dog perform the safe stages of the hunt – scanning the horizon for movement, smelling the air, catching the scent of an animal and following it for half an hour, calmly observing prey animals – gives me more joy than you could imagine. Banshee is amazing at what she does, she is driven, she is dedicated, she is in her element. Prey drive is in every fibre of her being and I look forward to the day we reach a level in her training where she can move closer, observe for longer, and slowly stalk an animal without going for the chase. Not because it’s more convenient for me, but because it’s what she loves to do.