Dog training is helpful. Dog language is essential.
When I started training dogs almost 30 years ago, the closest thing to understanding dogs was behaviorism. Behaviorism wasn’t really about understanding at all, though: it was about action and response. In fact, it emphasized that why something was happening, that the motivation behind it, didn’t matter. It couldn’t be seen and quantified (we aren’t psychic) and so it shouldn’t be considered.
Today, some dog behaviorists try and take the whys and motivators into account, but their training is still predominantly on action and reaction. That’s not a bad thing — in fact, getting your dog to obey generally relies on it.
But I don’t just want my dog to obey. I realize my dogs are living creatures, and have needs and desires beyond food, water, and shelter. I want to understand those. I want to know why they’re barking, how they feel about little Sally-Jo petting them, or when they’re unhappy.
I want a relationship.
To better understand what dogs were saying, I started studying them. Not just trying to figure out how to influence them, but what happened between them. When one dog flicked an ear a certain way, dogs around them would usually react in another specific way. What’s language, after all, than coded signals coming from one being and giving the beings around them knowledge? “I am going to get that treat.” “Do you enjoy this play?” “I’m afraid of that.”
I paid attention. I “listened” as actively as I could. I started tailoring my training responses according to what they were saying — and my rates of success skyrocketed. As laboratory and observational field studies started coming out, I devoured them as fast as I could get my hands on them.
I wanted a conversation. How can you help someone without knowing what they need? How can you share someone’s happiness if you don’t know they’re happy?
Dog cognition (as the study of dog’s minds was dubbed) and communication became a passion for me. I never really wanted dogs that did what I said perfectly, because what’s the point if they’re frightened, anxious, or aggressive in general? I can’t think of a command for every moment of every day.
No, what I want is a dog who thinks, listens, communicates, and with whom I have a strong relationship.
If my dog is frequently under stress, a command isn’t going to fix that. (In fact, it might make it worse.) But if I’m listening when they tell me why they’re stressed and what about, then I can help them. Suddenly, my dog behaves better overall because, with the stress eased, they can think and respond better. It’s not about training them. It’s about communicating.
Today I’m writing from a guest house at my friend’s place. Because I understand what Doc is telling me, I know he’s been under some mental and some physical stress. If I wanted a dog who obeyed, I’d probably tell him he had to stay on the floor, and his stress would continue and likely rise, unbeknownst to me. Sometime over the next few days, he’d likely burst with it. He’d chew up something he shouldn’t, get in a fight with my friend’s dogs, or bolt off and refuse to come back to this stressful situation.
But because I’m listening to him, I realized he needed some TLC. So I put a blanket on the couch and invited him up. I didn’t tell him he was being “disrespectful” by crowding into my space, because I know he’s asking for reassurance. He’s halfway sprawled across my lap, and instead of pushing him aside I’ve shifted my laptop to give him that space — because he’s telling me things have been fun but stressful, and I can respond to that, rather than stick to a harsh set of unchangeable rules.
By the time I’m done working, going to be better rested and less stressed. He’ll be able to think better and he won’t need a crazy outburst to release his stress. He’ll have more tolerance for my friend’s dogs, and be less cranky in general.
I’ll feel good that I helped him get there. I’ll also skip out on the stress and embarrassment of an outburst, and it’ll actually help me release some stress, too.
This is communication. This is companionship. This is what I want with my dog. It’s not about whether he sits or goes to his place when I ask: it’s about understanding what he’s saying, and being able to have a give and take relationship.
And you know what? He’s well behaved, but he doesn’t have a perfect “down” or “stay.” I would go so far as to say he doesn’t do anything perfectly. But it doesn’t matter: he and I are able to communicate, and he’s welcome everywhere. Not just tolerated because he’s a service dog, but actively welcomed because, thanks to our sharing a language, he’s well behaved in ways many dogs struggle.
He can still be pushy or obnoxious or inappropriately playful at times, but then, so can I. Sometimes I do have to set a rule and enforce it (not jumping on people comes to mind, or eating pills I’ve dropped), but it’s so much easier to do so when I understand that he’s saying, “I’m going to come back later and eat this pill,” or, “I get that you don’t want me to go near it, so I’ll ignore it.” One is failure, a massive vet bill, and fear of dropping things or taking him places where other people might drop things. The other is peace, trust, and ease.
More and more I realize that it’s not training that’s important: it’s communicating. Dogs can’t speak, and we can’t wag, but we can still understand each other and act accordingly.
I want to teach people. I have a workshop on learning to speak Dog on April 22nd. I hope you’ll consider coming.
Translating Dog * Workshop * Reservations
Jenna
