Trust Training Nervous Rats
the Rat Report: by Elizabeth R. TeSelle
One Pet lovers tip...
Our agouti rat Phineas was 14 months old when he joined our family. For all of his life Phineas had been used as a stud rat by a man who bred rats as 'feeders' and who was, consequently, not particularly concerned with how easy they were to handle. When he bothered to pick Phineas up at all, it was by his tail, with Phineas hanging in the air flailing his legs wildly. Needless to say, this treatment did little to make Phineas feel positive about humans.
The first time I reached my hand into Phineas' cage with a treat, he shrieked in terror and ran into the corner, where he huddled and chattered in fear. We took all his food away and for the next 2 days I persisted until Phineas was so hungry he was forced to take food from my hand. This may sound hard, but I knew that unless Phineas learned, through approaching my hand and not being hurt, that not all humans are the same, we would make no progress at all. When Phineas finally began taking the food I offered, he was frightened and nervous but within a week, he was allowing me to rub him behind the ears and gently stroke his back, though he still appeared nervous and concerned that I might alter my behavior at any moment.
In our first two weeks with Phineas, Marc was bitten once and I was bitten twice--once so hard my thumb bled for 10 minutes and sustained minor nerve damage that never entirely went away. In each case it was clear that Phineas was terrified, and was responding instinctively to situations he perceived as threatening. In fact, Phineas seemed so fearful that at first we were concerned that although we understood and sympathized with his plight, we may never be able to completely trust him. We wanted a rat who would sit on our shoulders and cuddle with us, but we tried to resign ourselves to being satisfied with just being able to handle him when necessary.
From the beginning, I decided that no matter how much I needed to or wanted to pick Phineas up, I would not resort to using his tail. Since this was clearly the kind of treatment at the root of his fear of people, I determined to persist in my plans to train him to tolerate being lifted by the body, no matter how long it took. The first time I put my hand around him in the cage, Phineas nearly scared me to death! He leapt away from me, screaming and chattering, and then sat facing me, daring me to try it again. I felt hurt and misunderstood, since I had no evil intentions and only wanted to provide Phineas with the freedom and fun I knew he deserved. But I tried to understand how scared he must be, and decided to wait until he trusted me more.
Meanwhile, Phineas' companion, Fergus, who was 10 weeks old when he joined our family, was responding to us fearlessly. He mostly wanted to explore the room, but was happy enough to cuddle occasionally, and as he grew up and calmed down, he became loving and friendly. At first I wasn't sure we could expect the same of Phineas, but I wasn't yet ready to give up hope.
Following the Skinnerian technique of behavior modification, which emphasizes rewarding desired behavior, I began gradually increasing the difficulty of what Phineas had to do to get the small pieces of food we offered him. At first, he only had to take the food from my hand inside the cage. Then he had to come to the cage door and take it. Then he had to come out of the cage onto my leg. Finally, after proceeding in this vein for about a week, I once again reached in to pick Phineas up. This time he tensed up and looked worried, but let me lift him out of the cage and onto my leg, where he took a piece of food from me and retreated to the cage. For the next week, the rule was that Phineas had to let me pick him up in order to get the food. First he was given it after I'd set him down on my leg, then he had to take it from me while I still held him.
The nice thing about this method was that it was easy to see progress from day to day. Each day we felt good because Phineas seemed to trust us a little more, and seemed to feel a little more relaxed about us and a little more willing to give us a chance. As the days turned into weeks and I had still never hurt Phineas or grabbed him by his tail, he began to really trust me. He begged for food when I walked into the room, and when he was free to roam around, he no longer skittered away whenever I moved my leg or adjusted my position on the floor. These days, Phineas climbs onto our laps of his own volition, seeks us out wherever we are, and really seems to enjoy the attention we give him. Grooming Marc's beard has proven to be a popular activity for both our rats! Probably most gratifying to me is the fact that now, when I put my hand around him, Phineas sits calmly and waits to be picked up, then seems relaxed and mellow while I hold him. If he struggles, it's because he wants to run around, and not because he's afraid.
If Phineas can do it, so can your rat...
One Pet lovers tip...
Our agouti rat Phineas was 14 months old when he joined our family. For all of his life Phineas had been used as a stud rat by a man who bred rats as 'feeders' and who was, consequently, not particularly concerned with how easy they were to handle. When he bothered to pick Phineas up at all, it was by his tail, with Phineas hanging in the air flailing his legs wildly. Needless to say, this treatment did little to make Phineas feel positive about humans.
The first time I reached my hand into Phineas' cage with a treat, he shrieked in terror and ran into the corner, where he huddled and chattered in fear. We took all his food away and for the next 2 days I persisted until Phineas was so hungry he was forced to take food from my hand. This may sound hard, but I knew that unless Phineas learned, through approaching my hand and not being hurt, that not all humans are the same, we would make no progress at all. When Phineas finally began taking the food I offered, he was frightened and nervous but within a week, he was allowing me to rub him behind the ears and gently stroke his back, though he still appeared nervous and concerned that I might alter my behavior at any moment.
In our first two weeks with Phineas, Marc was bitten once and I was bitten twice--once so hard my thumb bled for 10 minutes and sustained minor nerve damage that never entirely went away. In each case it was clear that Phineas was terrified, and was responding instinctively to situations he perceived as threatening. In fact, Phineas seemed so fearful that at first we were concerned that although we understood and sympathized with his plight, we may never be able to completely trust him. We wanted a rat who would sit on our shoulders and cuddle with us, but we tried to resign ourselves to being satisfied with just being able to handle him when necessary.
From the beginning, I decided that no matter how much I needed to or wanted to pick Phineas up, I would not resort to using his tail. Since this was clearly the kind of treatment at the root of his fear of people, I determined to persist in my plans to train him to tolerate being lifted by the body, no matter how long it took. The first time I put my hand around him in the cage, Phineas nearly scared me to death! He leapt away from me, screaming and chattering, and then sat facing me, daring me to try it again. I felt hurt and misunderstood, since I had no evil intentions and only wanted to provide Phineas with the freedom and fun I knew he deserved. But I tried to understand how scared he must be, and decided to wait until he trusted me more.
Meanwhile, Phineas' companion, Fergus, who was 10 weeks old when he joined our family, was responding to us fearlessly. He mostly wanted to explore the room, but was happy enough to cuddle occasionally, and as he grew up and calmed down, he became loving and friendly. At first I wasn't sure we could expect the same of Phineas, but I wasn't yet ready to give up hope.
Following the Skinnerian technique of behavior modification, which emphasizes rewarding desired behavior, I began gradually increasing the difficulty of what Phineas had to do to get the small pieces of food we offered him. At first, he only had to take the food from my hand inside the cage. Then he had to come to the cage door and take it. Then he had to come out of the cage onto my leg. Finally, after proceeding in this vein for about a week, I once again reached in to pick Phineas up. This time he tensed up and looked worried, but let me lift him out of the cage and onto my leg, where he took a piece of food from me and retreated to the cage. For the next week, the rule was that Phineas had to let me pick him up in order to get the food. First he was given it after I'd set him down on my leg, then he had to take it from me while I still held him.
The nice thing about this method was that it was easy to see progress from day to day. Each day we felt good because Phineas seemed to trust us a little more, and seemed to feel a little more relaxed about us and a little more willing to give us a chance. As the days turned into weeks and I had still never hurt Phineas or grabbed him by his tail, he began to really trust me. He begged for food when I walked into the room, and when he was free to roam around, he no longer skittered away whenever I moved my leg or adjusted my position on the floor. These days, Phineas climbs onto our laps of his own volition, seeks us out wherever we are, and really seems to enjoy the attention we give him. Grooming Marc's beard has proven to be a popular activity for both our rats! Probably most gratifying to me is the fact that now, when I put my hand around him, Phineas sits calmly and waits to be picked up, then seems relaxed and mellow while I hold him. If he struggles, it's because he wants to run around, and not because he's afraid.
If Phineas can do it, so can your rat...
posted by Lee at 8:28 AM
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