The following is an excerpt from Nancy’s online course entitled “Greeting Skills: From Friendly Tornadoes to Warm Hellos”, available at FenziDogSportsAcademy.com. It’s offered once (sometimes twice) a year.

This is it.  This is the part where most people casually get off the bus, convinced they “already know this stuff” and that it doesn’t apply to them.  “This is too basic… I want to work on my actual problem!”

Ah, but this is precisely the stuff that will get you over the hump you’ve been struggling with.  You may think your dog has already learned all the foundation behaviours he needs, and you’re probably right… in certain contexts.

Sometimes, your dog gets it perfectly right, and he’s a star. After all, you’ve already put hours and hours of work into training your awesome dog.

It’s just in a few other contexts that the problem surfaces, amirite?

You’re certain that if you could just work in those particular contexts, you will resolve the issue.  “My dog already does X behaviour perfectly at home, I don’t need to practice that.  I want him to learn to do X behaviour in the other context, where it becomes a problem.  Can’t we just work on that already??”

Well, sort of, yes.  But mostly, no.

Let me explain.  But first, a little anecdote:

I once had a client who wanted help with her dog’s “Stay” behaviour.  We talked for a while, she and I and her dog standing in my training facility.  She was growing frustrated at my suggestion that we start at the beginning again – revisit the foundations of that behaviour – because she felt her dog “already knew” a basic Stay.

“I can ask to him to Stay and then leave the room for 10 mins at a time, and he won’t move.”  Great!  Then what was the problem?

“If I ask him to Stay and I call my other dog to me, he’ll stand and follow us.”  Ah, I see.

Well now, that’s a whole different behaviour.  She wanted us to work together with that as a starting point, and while at first glance, it would seem as though “a stay is a stay” and should be pretty straight-forward, the reality is that the contexts were so different that they weren’t even on the same side of the tree.

Tree?  What tree…?

And here is where it will all make sense for you.  Consider this illustration:

1. A behaviour is like a tree.

2. The roots are the foundation skills.

3. The trunk is where the foundation skills for that behaviour come together and become strong.

4. Each large branch – or limb – represents a different context in which that behaviour can take place.

5. Each smaller branch growing from those limbs represents more details about that context.

6. And each even smaller branch, right down to the individual leaves, represents even more contextual detail.

While I stood talking to my client about her dog’s Stay skills, she explained to me that her dog was able to maintain a stay while she was out of the room.  Okay… that’s a limb: “Stay, even in owner’s absence”.

I asked about distractions.  She said that her dog was rock-solid.  He was able to stay while she literally ran circles around him, waving her arms and shouting excitedly.  Okay… that’s also part of a limb on the “Stay” behaviour tree:

“Stay while your person moves”.

And another branch off that limb:

“Stay while your person moves around excitedly.”

And another smaller branch off that branch:

“Stay while your person moves around excitedly and shouts.”

I asked her to cue her dog to stay and to show me what that distraction looks like.  As she moved around and shouted excitedly, I tossed a ball off to the side.  Her dog stood up immediately, unsure what to do.

Tossing a ball is a context that belongs on a different branch that grows on a different limb. Tossing a ball is not attached to the limb that represents “while your person moves”.

Before we marry both contexts – Context #1: the movement/shouting, and Context #2: the ball toss – we need to work on each context separately, from the foundation, up the trunk, onto the limb, and across to the appropriate branch.

What my client was suggesting was the equivalent of jumping straight from the “movement and shouting” branch, clear across to the other side of the tree to the “tossing a ball” branch.  But that’s where the problem was… it’s too far a stretch, even for Tarzan.

That’s why she hadn’t been able to solve the problem of her dog breaking his Stay in order to follow her other dog.  She was attempting to skip a few vital steps.  Her dog had not yet acquired that skill.

We can’t jump from branch to branch until we’ve taught each behaviour from the roots up, separately.  Instead, by building each behaviour from the foundation up, you are building a sort of tree-house that will allow you easy and direct access to all the different branches.  A solid platform.

So here we are now, you and I, standing at the roots of this particular behaviour tree:  The “Polite greetings” tree.

This behaviour tree is made up of several branches, each representing a different context and skill.  Look up, and you’ll see the “greeting people at my door” branch, and the “walking by another dog and ignoring him” branch, and the “standing still while someone approaches us” branch… and off of that branch are even smaller branches: “standing still while someone approaches us from behind”, or “… from head-on”, or “… from head-on while jogging”, or “… from head-on while jogging with a dog”.

You get the picture.  Each of these is an entirely different context requiring a different skill set.  They will each need to be practiced separately, systematically working our way through levels of difficulty.  With each practice, you are building your tree house, so that one day you can own that entire behaviour tree.

Foundation skills are where it’s at, and we’re going to spend some time here together.  I promise you it’s worth it.  Let’s move our way up the trunk and work on each branch systematically so that we can finally help your dog get it right in all the contexts you envision.

The post The Behaviour Tree – why foundation skills are important in dog training appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.

I’m aware, though, that filling my head with all that info only makes me knowledgeable, not competent.  There’s still one more crucial step to go before I can transform that brainy knowledge into useful skills: I need to learn to apply it.  I need to know what to do with all this information.

What’s more, I need to learn to apply it correctly and fluently, and that’s going to take time and practice.

Almost nothing is ever as it’s described in theory. There are always unique circumstances or conditions that will differentiate one case from another.  Real-life situations vary immensely.

That’s why it’s vital to learn how to apply new skills and knowledge and just as importantly, how to adjust and adapt those skills according to the variable conditions you’re facing.

What does that mean?  Well, let’s say you want to bake a cake.  You’ve already learned how to bake a cake from a traditional cook book, but the ingredients you currently have before you are a little different from the ones you originally learned about.  The oven you have is electric, not gas like in the book, and you’re at a much higher altitude, which will affect how long it takes to bake.

A novice baker might get a little stuck, not quite sure how to proceed with these different variables.  Or she might try to plow ahead according to the traditional recipe and will either run into problems or won’t get the results she expected.  

An experienced baker, on the other hand, will recognize that she needs to adjust the recipe, and she’ll know what parts to tweak.

One baker has the knowledge (and that’s a great start), but the other has the knowledge and the skills, and in the end that’s more likely to lead to an actual cake.

This is particularly true for trainers who want to address behaviour issues through the use of desensitization and counter-conditioning techniques (DS/CC).

They might spend an impressive amount of time understanding how and why DS/CC methods work, and then when faced with a case that could be helped by these techniques, they find themselves a little unsure exactly how to apply what they’ve learned to the unique variables in front of them.  They know what to do, but not quite how to do it.

Does this sound like you?  If you’re recognizing yourself here, that’s okay.  “Knowing” and “doing” are different elements of the learning process.  It just means you need some hands-on practice.

Let’s consider canine separation anxiety for a moment. The gold standard for treating this problem is through the application of desensitization.

We can learn about how and why desensitization works to treat this issue. We learn, on paper, how it should be applied, step by step. We have the information stored in our mental files, ready to be pulled when needed.

Then one day, when faced with an actual case, we quickly realize that there are far more variables involved in real life than in the textbook scenario we learned from.  Applying what we know turns out to be trickier than we expected.

Cake Recipes and Treatment Plans:  Same Thing

Taking into account the combinations of variables is important for the treatment of any fearful behaviour in dogs, whether you’re looking at helping your dog learn to be home alone, or to accept nail trimming, or to be okay in the presence of strangers or the big scary vacuum cleaner.  

As a very general rule, treatment plans for fearful behaviours will all follow a similar path. Every plan, for example, will correctly state that progression to “the next step” shouldn’t happen until the dog is ready.

Sounds straight-forward enough, right?

But wait… what exactly does that look like? How can you tell for sure that the dog “is ready”? What if the dog never seems to be comfortable enough when you try to move to the next step? What happens when you hit a wall or a speed bump in your plan and you find yourself a little stuck between steps?

A common mistake is believing we have to adhere to a very carefully laid-out plan.

When things don’t work out like it says they should on paper, it can feel like we’re swimming against the current.  We grow frustrated and discouraged when the progress we expected isn’t forthcoming.

The cure for getting over these hurdles is trainer experience.  Getting there, though, can feel a little like applying for a job straight out of school:  Employers want someone with experience, but how will you ever get experience in the first place if no-one will hire you?  

Fill the gap between knowledge and competence

Consider these stepping stones that’ll take you from learner to do-er.  They lie conveniently between understanding a concept and applying new skills:

Read case studies – lots of them. Learn how the skills have already been applied in a bunch of different contexts.

Audit training sessions – see the skills in action. Shadow someone with experience as they progress through a current case.

When you do this, you’ll notice just how often an approach is adjusted and customized to fit the circumstances surrounding the behaviour. That’s normal, and it’s good.

Effective behaviour change demands flexibility while still sticking to the principles of science.

Adhering strictly to cookie-cutter protocols can look and feel like you’re forcing a square peg into a round hole.

A protocol should start as a guideline, and should be tweaked and adjusted as the work progresses. In fact, I prefer to use the term “plan” rather than “protocol”, since “protocol” suggests rules, regulations, and formalities that are less flexible and adaptable than a “plan”, which to me suggests a draft or guideline.

Semantics, I know. My point is that we should all enter these behaviour modification projects with an open mind, ready to bend and adjust to navigate the variables in each individual case.

And the best way to feel comfortable and confident enough to treat fearful behaviours is to see how other experienced trainers might address the curve balls, walls, and speed bumps in their cases.

Read cases studies, audit current cases, and reach out to other experienced trainers for help with tricky cases.

Becoming a flexible trainer and behaviour consultant is no different than gaining physical flexibility: Muscles need to be stretched gradually and consistently. Eventually, it becomes easier to move with fluidity and confidence.

Stay bendy, my friends.

The post Bridging the Gap Between “Knowing” and “Doing” appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.

It was a narrow path, and the woman — understandably alarmed — needed to make a rapid decision. She chose to keep walking past him. She greeted him and made eye contact. Her dog followed her, but kept pausing and turning back to look at the man. Luckily, nothing more happened.

“Nothing more”, of course, means no physical altercation took place. But something more did happen to that woman. She was shaken up, and her mind and body remained on high alert for a long time afterwards.

When she posted her story, tons of other women posted comments relating how grateful they are to have a dog with them when they walk. Some are also grateful to have a dog who is wary of people, and who might growl or bark at an approaching stranger.

Isn’t that bizarre? As women, we actually welcome “reactive” behaviour from our dogs in certain contexts. Sometimes, it might even save our lives.

As a behaviour consultant, I’ll admit I’ve had conversations with single female clients about their dog’s tendency to bark when a stranger knocks. Woman to woman, I often ask, “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to leave this behaviour alone?” Of course she would. Every single one of them admits that she likes the barking. The deeper the bark, the better.

Part of this infuriates and saddens me. The unfairness of it. The fact that we even need to think about this as a possible scenario in our day-to-day lives.

In a place I lived, once, I deliberately never addressed my two dogs’ tendency to bark and lunge aggressively at strangers near our home. I was a single woman living alone — a bit of a sitting duck in a place where violent crime was common enough to be a serious concern. I am certain their behaviour kept me safe on more than one occasion.  I admit I encouraged and reinforced it.

I have almost always had large dogs.  Today, I share my life with a small dog.  I’ve noticed that my perception has changed.

When we’re out walking on a forest path, I feel more protective than protected.  If someone intended to hurt me, would they hurt my dog too?

I feel a rush of adrenaline when I cross a man alone on a walking path.  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” I silently promise my little dog.

It’s a different emotional response from the one I used to have when I had the company of a large dog, but the physiological response is the same and involves just as much adrenaline. Even if the man is just innocently walking the trails like I am (which is very likely the case), he is immediately a suspicious character to me, and I am automatically angry and bothered…

…that he is there;

…that adrenaline is involuntarily pumping through my body when the original purpose of my walk was to relax;

…that I’m certain he’s not thinking: “Oh no, a lone woman!  Will she hurt me? Should I turn and run? Should I speak? Make eye contact?  Fuck I wish mace was legal in Canada! Should I pick up my dog? Reach for my keys? Why didn’t I bring my hiking pole? Fuck!”

No, I’m positive he’s not thinking that.

The unfairness.  It’s what irritates me the most. That women need to consider these things. That some women actually opt for a large dog when they’re looking to adopt one, for this reason specifically. Specifically. For safety. For chances of survival, should danger present itself. 

Men, you should know that if you’re walking on a trail, or on the street, or in a park and you are about to cross a woman’s path, this is what she’s thinking. She’s calculating the odds that she will survive the next few moments.

Be mindful of that.  Kindly let us see your hands, your face, your eyes. Don’t stare silently, and if you speak, don’t expect a response.  We might be busy focusing on breathing steadily. But a pleasant nod and “hello” should help.  Move over, give us some space, cross the street if you’re behind us so it doesn’t feel like you’re following us.  For god’s sake remove that hood.

And if she’s walking with a dog who stares, barks, or lunges at you, please understand that her dog’s behaviour is making her feel more safe than embarrassed.  I suppose that’s unfair to you. I’m sorry about that.  (But not really.)

The post Women feel safer in the company of a dog appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.

I started one afternoon with just one task in mind:  To clear out the grown kid’s bedroom and transform it into something else. It was a simple enough idea (ha!) and I was excited to get cracking.

But the tiny project turned into a full-blown gargantuan purging exercise that involved ALL the rooms in the house. I had to recruit my husband to help. He was thrilled.

What I thought would take a couple of days dragged into its fourth week before I realized what was happening. My house was a complete mess, and although I was ready to throw in the towel and just stuff everything back where it had been, I knew that the only real solution was to keep pushing forward.

A ton of surprises kept popping up. I was finding stuff I didn’t even know I had lost. I was even unearthing two copies of the same book, having bought the second because I had forgotten I had ever bought the first. No wonder I had so many bookshelves.

My husband and I made dozens of trips in our packed SUVs, taking boxes, furniture and industrial-sized garbage bags full of stuff to the recycling center or to our local charity organization, and yet… when we returned home and looked around, there was still more stuff.

So much more stuff.

It was the result of years of storing things to deal with them “later”. Of removing an item from a room I was cleaning, and just putting it in another room, on another shelf, in another drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

I was playing Whack-a-Mole with items in my house for 12 years.

Solve one problem, another pops up

It struck me that this scenario looked a lot like the “quick fixes” dog owners look for when we want to change our dog’s behaviour. By focusing on just a single issue, we sometimes end up solving (or suppressing) one problematic behaviour only to discover that another problematic behaviour has popped up to replace it.

It’s like squeezing a balloon… the air disappears from one spot, only to collect in another.

“Fluffy’s not chewing our shoes anymore, but now he’s digging up the garden.”

“Rover stopped jumping up on us, but now he barks to get our attention.”

“I put PeeWee in the back bedroom so the neighbours would stop complaining about his barking, but now he’s chewing the door frame.”

The chewing, jumping, and barking in these three scenarios are clues that should lead us to the root of the problem. They are not the real problem. They are symptoms.

There’s a bigger picture

During my behaviour consultations with dog owners, the big picture starts to come into focus during our initial conversation. As I listen to my client, I begin to understand that there’s actually more going on than just the one behaviour they contacted me for.

I know that if I don’t address the whole picture, another problem behaviour will eventually pop up somewhere else.

The new problem behaviour might look nothing like the original one. The problems might not even appear to be related at all. But if we stand back and take in the whole scene, we can see how both issues stem from a common denominator.

Taking inventory

So we need to dig deeper and pull everything out. We need to sort through the issues and connect the dots. Playing detective is an important first step in behaviour change.

All of this can take a lot more time than we anticipated. It can get tricky and messy, and it can feel daunting.

But that’s what truly resolving a problem is all about. It’s not instantaneous, and there is no magic wand.  It may involve deconstructing months or years of habits and routines to get it all sorted before we begin to see the result we want.

In most cases, it’s best to work with a behaviour consultant who’s trained to guide you through exactly this kind of thing. They should be experienced enough to recognize the value of the big picture, and skilled enough to address each element of it.

The best way to get true, lasting behaviour change isn’t too far removed from a good house-cleaning: It requires pulling everything out into daylight. It takes patience, persistence, and organization, and it’s often best accomplished with the guidance and support of someone who knows how to navigate through the process.

And boy, the result sure is worth all the trouble.

The post The Secret to Changing Your Dog’s Behaviour appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.

It shouldn’t. We’re all in business to make money. If you’re only looking to break even, you’re probably running a charity. If your work is consistently costing you more than you’re bringing in, then what you have is a hobby, not a business.

I talk to a lot of trainers who feel a little weird about asking for payment for their services. Hey, dog training is a legit way to earn a living. There is no shame in charging a fee and expecting payment.

The issue is especially common among new trainers. When we’re starting out in this industry, we tend to take ALL the clients we can get. We’re so afraid to miss out on potential income that we’ll even entertain the tire-kickers. We spend an unfortunate amount of time responding to enquiries from folks who are generally just looking for free information and who will likely never become clients.

We feel compassion for those who say they can’t afford our services at the moment. We care about what will happen to the dog and we feel pressured, worrying that if we don’t help these people, who will?

And then there’s Imposter Syndrome, the awful feeling that you are a major fraud and that one day everyone will realize that you’re not nearly as qualified as they think you are. How could you possibly demand payment when you’re not worthy? The truth is that many of the trainers who question themselves are more than qualified and are worth every penny of their fee – which, by the way, is often lower than it should be.

It’s a wonderful thing to be able to donate time and services to those dogs and families less fortunate, but first you need to be in a position to afford to do that. You’re of no service to dogs and their families if you end up needing to quit training in order to generate income doing something else.

Grow your business. Focus your efforts on paying customers who can afford you and who recognize your value. Pay yourself first… your rent, your car, your phone, your food and gas, your continuing education (that ain’t cheap)… THEN help others.

Follow the airline safety advice and put your own oxygen mask on first before helping someone else with theirs. When you’re breathing easily thanks to steady income, you’ll be able to donate training services or advice without choking yourself straight out of business.

The post Put your own oxygen mask on first appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.

I’ve followed a few online discussions recently that focused on topics ranging from canine nutrition, to the link between behaviour and thyroid health, and whether or not “no-reward markers” are effective in training.

All very interesting topics.

In each of these discussions, conjecture and anecdotes reigned. Genuine requests for data or evidence were met with angry retorts that “science isn’t everything”, and “I know it because I saw it with my own eyes”.

When it comes to evidence, though, science kinda is everything. At least, it’s the best thing we humans currently have at our disposal to answer our questions about stuff.

Everyone has a story about how a particular solution solved their problem, about how something “worked”. That’s great! Who doesn’t like a solution that works? I am always interested in finding out why it worked. And to know this, I need to understand how it works, and whether it can work again in the future.

We should all take the time to learn about the scientific method. Even if it’s uncomfortable and likely to lead us away from something we deeply believe. It doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to form an opinion about something. It just means that our opinion remains an opinion until we can back it up with evidence.

Published research studies are often complicated and difficult to decipher for the average person. They are not always perfect, and no… they’re not always conducted in a lab (in response to a favourite retort that “a lab doesn’t reflect what happens in the field”).

I usually turn to trusted sources to break studies down for me and help me grasp the relevant info and take-away. Here are my favourite bloggers who do a fabulous job at helping readers understand science-y stuff:

• Eileen Anderson at Eileen and Dogs
• Linda Case at The Science Dog
• Dr. Jessica Hekman at the Dog Zombie
• Dr. Brennen McKenzie at Skeptvet

In fact, one of my favourite books on how to think critically and how to understand the scientific method as it relates to dog stuff is Linda Case’s “Beware the Straw Man”. Read it. It’ll make you smart.

The purpose of “discussion” is unfortunately often lost on social media threads. Those commenting on a hot-button topic tend to try to win a debate by shutting it down. True, the answers we have at our disposal might be valid today, and disproven tomorrow. But they’re what we’ve got and they’re usually an excellent starting point for more questions.

And lucky for us, there is always someone out there asking lots and lots of questions, and others like the bloggers I’ve listed who take the time to share some of the answers in a painless way.

The post Top 4 Dog-Related Science Blogs to Follow appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.

Everyone giggled in agreement. I smiled and mildly protested, “Hey now, I like Candy Crush!”

Everyone giggled at that too. I realized they thought I was being funny. I wasn’t.

For context, we were talking about the link between dopamine and playing video games — how players are quickly and frequently reinforced for continuing to play.

The parallel to training, of course — and why we were discussing video games — was to illustrate the benefits of shaping behaviour using positive reinforcement; of maintaining the enthusiasm to keep going, keep working, keeping aiming for the reward; of splitting the learning experience into small steps, and of making reinforcement easily and frequently available, yadda yadda.

What struck me about this short discussion, however, was how all the other benefits of games like Candy Crush seemed lost on my colleagues. There’s a lot more to games like this than just pretty colours and a steady supply of dopamine.

Much like the game of chess is considered a yawner to someone who hasn’t experienced the satisfying sensation of strategizing and outsmarting an opponent (don’t kid yourself, wars have been fought for that sensation… it’s a powerful thing), Candy Crush is considered a silly waste of time to the trainer who hasn’t noticed what a fascinating study in behaviour it really is.

Hold on, hear me out.

“Behaviour — feedback — revision”

Like in any video game, the player is given a limited number of lives to accomplish a task. When you lose a life, you’re placed back at the start of the puzzle for another crack at it.

Only this time, you’re smarter. You’ve learned from your previous behaviour, you’ve revised your approach, and you try again.

You receive tiny and frequent reinforcers every time you make a correct move. Keep going.

When you complete a task, you’re rewarded by moving ahead to the next one. Well done! Keep going.

When you open the next puzzle, though, there are no instructions. You need to figure out what you’re supposed to do as you’re doing it. So you see, this isn’t a mindless activity. You need to think.

After a few attempts and some loss of game lives, you learn to slow down, examine the big picture, and strategize before beginning to play again.

How can a trainer NOT recognize this as being an excellent example of what we do and what we teach every single day?

We gather information, we look at setting events and antecedents, we identify reinforcers. We slow down, analyze data, and determine what’s working and what isn’t.

Dude, that’s Candy Crush in a nutshell.

Candy Crush gives me a mental break

I admit I am addicted to the type of work I do. I. Love. It. I am happiest when I am solving a puzzle of any kind. Games like Candy Crush offer me endless opportunities to solve puzzles. I play for short periods every day, and I enjoy my dopamine rush (thank you very much).

I take a break to clear my mind between work tasks. I’ll take five minutes to play a quick level or two of Candy Crush on my phone while my tea steeps, and just like that, it’s like I’ve pressed a reset button and I’m ready to get started again with a fresh brain.

So there you have it. My name is Nancy, I’m an educated and relatively intelligent person, and I enjoy Candy Crush.

Why the urge to share my confession?

Well, here’s the thing: The dog training industry is rife with social pressure to take sides, to ridicule, and to criticize. We’re a strange bunch who like to spot flaws in training videos and feel compelled to point them out publicly. (What the hell is wrong with us?)

When I see an example of this behaviour on social media, I always wonder how many new trainers or potential training clients are being made painfully aware of how judgey and cannibalistic a group of professional trainers can be.

People are often easily influenced by waves of social groups who have chosen something to collectively hate. It becomes fashionable, even, to publicly ridicule random things. (Nickleback, anyone?)

Social pressure

When I heard the obvious criticism and ridicule expressed in my colleague’s statement about Candy Crush, I wondered how many people sitting in the room that day giggled as a result of social pressure. I thought, is it possible they’re secret Candy Crush players, preferring to side with the social group to avoid ridicule and criticism?

Would they have responded differently to the mention of Candy Crush if it had instead been described as an interesting parallel to our work? If they didn’t yet know about Candy Crush, might they have become curious to learn more about it if it was talked about in a positive tone?

I think this is what happens when someone brings up the subject of training methods in a group setting. How the discussion is introduced will determine whether learning is about to take place. There are, I’m sure, many observers who shy away from asking questions, who don’t dare express an interest in learning more about a method, a technique, a piece of equipment, or an approach. They’re aware that they risk scorn or judgment if they do.

I don’t like social groups that collectively ridicule. I cringe at the memory of times I’ve played along with this behaviour in the past. Now older and wiser, I avoid such groups, partly because I prefer to root for the underdog, and mostly because I find the associated behaviour neither constructive nor helpful.

Yeah, I like Crocs.

And you know what? Social ridicule be damned, I’ll just lay this out right here: I still love and regularly buy Crocs. I love the scent of Old Spice. Hair scrunchies are great (and way better for your hair). And I’ll sing along to Nickleback’s “… this is how you remind me…” at the top of my lungs whenever I hear it, because I enjoy it.

You don’t have to like any of these things, but if you would kindly step aside for those who do, that’d be great.

And if your aim is to reach minds and teach, well… I hope you’ll choose positivity over social intimidation.

The post How to influence people: You can spark interest and enthusiasm, or be a judgmental wet blanket. Which will you choose? appeared first on Nancy Tucker, CDBC, CPDT-KA.