The Other End of the Leash: Why We Do What We Do Around Dogs

by Patricia B. McConnell

Once our dogs are no longer puppies, we seem to have some sense of entitlement that grown-up dogs should go outside, because “they should know better.” But if they’re going to the bathroom in the house, you can either get upset about it and put on a threat display as any agitated primate would—scaring the heck out of your dog in the process—or you can get over it and give him a treat for going outside. Trust me, the latter works a lot better.

Omnivores like our early humanoid primate ancestors were always seeking out plump, juicy fruits, and that legacy drives our attraction to fruity and flowery smells. Dogs are hunters and scavengers, attracted to, rather than repelled by, the scent of ripe carcasses. In the big scheme of things, one attraction makes no more sense than the other. When you think about it, soaking in plant genitalia or whale goo really isn’t inherently any more sensible than rolling in cow pies. That perspective helps me a bit when I’m not quick enough to stop one of my dogs from her blissful wallow in some wretched, stinking mess.

At the age of fifty-three, I am hardly a juvenile, but I still love to play. And so do my friends, and so does the whole global community of humans and dogs, for that matter. Our species is obsessed with play: we are either participating ourselves or watching others play for us.

Dogs who are rescued from abusively sterile environments often don’t play with any kind of toy.

This lack of interest in playing with toys is almost universal in dogs raised in impoverished environments

Your puppy also needs to socialize with other dogs as well as people. It’s not enough that you have another dog at home or have the neighbor’s dog play with your new puppy every day. Social animals like dogs and humans have a strong sense of “familiar” and “unfamiliar,” and dogs need to learn that part of what’s normal and familiar in life is to meet unfamiliar people and dogs.

All my dogs know “Enough,” which means to stop whatever they’re doing (like asking for petting or bugging me with the ball) and leave me in peace. It’s easy to teach, and it’s a wonderful way to let your dog know that as much as you love her, it’s still your life. All you need to do is to say “Enough” in a low, quiet voice and then pat her briskly on the head two times. If she doesn’t go away (which most dogs won’t the first several times you do this), stand up and walk your dog away from the couch a few feet, using your body-blocking skills to back her away. Cross your arms and turn your head away to the side as you sit back down. If she comes right back as you sit down, “pat pat” on her head again and body-block her away a second time. When she returns, be sure to do a “look away” so that you’re not making eye contact. (I’m always amused at how often we humans tell our dogs to go away and yet continue to make eye contact with them. Meanwhile, the dog is desperately looking at your face, trying to find the cue to what the heck it is that you’re trying to communicate. If you turn your head away from your dog, you’re saying that your interaction is over, and many dogs will seemingly understand and go away. If you keep staring at him, using words to tell him to go away, he’ll keep staring back at you, sure that you are trying to visually communicate something important and desperately trying to figure out what it is by looking at your face.)

there’s a useful result to our primatelike tendency to pat dogs on top of their heads, so we might as well take advantage of it. It’s the perfect situation: humans are quick to pat dogs on top of their heads, but dogs don’t really like it (remember that patting is not the same as stroking: most dogs adore massagelike strokes just as we do). A wolf handler reinforced the usefulness of this technique when she told me that she and the other handlers got wolves to stop bugging them by patting them on the head two or three times. It’s not aggressive or threatening, it’s just mildly aversive, so both dogs and wolves decide to go elsewhere (probably to the person sitting next to you!).

You can also help your dog learn to stop pestering you and entertain himself by giving him a hollow toy stuffed with food after he goes to settle down. Don’t leap up and give him a chew toy the instant that he comes over to beg. That’s just teaching him that begging is even more productive than he thought. Rather, say “Enough” when he scratches at your leg (or whatever his version of making demands is) and body-block him away. Once he lies down and settles himself, get up (stay quiet, no need to talk) and give him the toy stuffed with treats that you efficiently have stored in the kitchen for just this very moment. Put it down right where he had settled, even if he’s gotten up to follow you out of the room. Now your dog has learned that it pays to settle down on the floor instead of working you like a slot machine. This is especially helpful for young dogs who can barely contain themselves, the equivalent of giving young children something to do with their hands while you finish your meal in a restaurant. Smart parents don’t wait for trouble; they head it off at the pass by giving their children something appropriate to do rather than waiting for them to get attention by doing something wrong. You can do the same for your dog and have more time to relax.

It’s relatively easy to teach dogs to be polite at the door. One of the reasons why I suspect that doorways have some special significance to dogs is that they seem to catch on quickly how to behave at the door, while exercises like heeling take months of work. (There’s nothing relevant to a dog about heeling. My own translation of heel from a canine perspective is: “Walk slowly at the pace of death by your owner’s knee while ignoring all interesting things.”) You don’t need to use food or toys for this training, because access to the great outdoors is its own reward. If Fido behaves politely, he gets to go outside, which is what he wanted in the first place. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

Start by deciding what signal you’re going to use to ask your dog to pause at the doorway. We use “Wait” in our training classes, but I use “Mind” myself (short for “Mind your manners”) because “Wait” sounds too much like one of my herding signals. Just pick a word that doesn’t sound like the other signals that you use and be consistent with it. Remember to use a quiet but low voice and to say the word as if it were a statement rather than a question. (“Wait?” said like a question translates to something like: “Would you consider waiting? Are you going to listen this time, huh? Maybe? Please?”)

For safety’s sake, if the door that you’re going to use for training goes to an unfenced area, be sure to have your dog on a leash. Don’t, however, use the leash to pull your dog back from the door, because doing so will cause your dog to pull toward the door even harder. The muscles of all mammals work against opposing forces, so whenever you pull on a dog, you cause him automatically to pull back. If you pull steadily back on the leash, you aren’t training your dog to stop pulling forward, you’re encouraging it.

So keep the leash loose while you’re doing your training at the door, although I’ll be the first to warn you that it’s not always easy. It’s so tempting for us to pull on a leash when it’s in our hand that it works better to have someone else hold the leash while you work on “wait” at the door. You can also tie the leash to a railing or to your belt if it’s a small dog, so that you won’t use it to try pulling your dog away from the door. It should be your body that keeps the dog from rushing out the door, not the leash. Once you get to the door, move yourself in front of your dog, so that you’re between the door and your dog. Stand facing your dog, with your back to the door, so that you can see what she’s doing and respond to it. If she’s crowded up against the door (which most dogs will be), back her away by moving directly toward her, herding her with body blocks away from the door. Do this quietly and gently, moving forward with small, quiet steps so that she has no choice but to back up. If she tries to dart around you, move quickly to the right or left to block her with your body. Just keep imagining y...

What you do next depends on your dog’s behavior. Most dogs dart forward when they see the door open (or even when you move back toward the door), so be ready to use your body to block the path to the door. Concentrate on not repeating your verbal signal (not surprisingly, this takes some practice at first) and just using your body to impede her forward progress. Some people prefer to close the door before a dog can get through it rather than using their body to stop the dog. This teaches the dog that if she tries to charge through, the door will shut before she gets there, but if she sits and waits patiently, it opens. If you use this method, be sure not to slam the door on your dog. I’ve seen it happen, so my preference is to use my body to block the doorway, but both methods work. Once your dog has paused (either simply stopping her forward movement or, ideally, stopping and looking up at you), even just for a microsecond, say “OK” and let her out the door. Timing is everything here. It’s critical to reinforce your dog when she first takes the pressure off the door, so watch her carefully and be ready to open ...

Let me warn you now about the most common mistakes that people make so that you can work to avoid them: Repeating the verbal signal over and over again (think chimp). Concentrate on saying it just once and then letting your body do the rest. Using the leash to stop the dog rather than your body (again, another very human thing to do: it’s almost impossible not to do something with a leash in our hand). Use your body, not the leash. Walking or leaning forward toward your dog when he has already stopped moving toward the door. Remember that body blocks are very powerful visual signals, and the microsecond that your dog stops leaning forward and putting pressure toward the door (you can feel it even if you’re not touching the dog), you should respond instantly by stopping your own forward motion. Continuing to move or lean forward puts too much pressure on your dog and will create its own problems.

Rather than backing up when a friendly but rude dog lunges toward you, use the body blocks that we talked about in Chapter 2 to protect the personal space around you. Say you’re seated on a chair and Duke is moving across the room at the speed of light. It’s clear that in three strides he’s going to launch himself into your lap. Instead of doing what comes naturally, which is to lean backward to avoid the furry missile (which creates a space for the dog to move into), lean forward with your chest and shoulders and meet him more than halfway. Avert your face, keep your hands tucked into your belly, and use your shoulders and torso to block the dog from entering the circle of space around you. Once he’s stopped trying to climb into your lap, reinforce him with petting, praise, treats, or play when all four of his paws are on the ground. You usually have to repeat the body blocks a few times before all four paws will actually stay on the floor, but it’s amazing how many dogs drop leaping up at you from their repertoire.

Getting loud may get your dog’s attention, just as it would get the attention of students in a classroom, but what message does yelling convey about you? Yelling makes you look scary and out of control. It might get your dog’s attention, but it doesn’t make you look like a calm, collected leader, and it doesn’t model the behavior that you’d like to see from him. It can make your dog worse in the short run and cause him to lose faith in you in the long run.

Dogs seem to love people who are quiet, cool, and collected and prefer sitting beside them over sitting beside others. We humans, too, are attracted to those rare individuals who have a dignified and quiet sense of power about them.

If your dog is doing something that you don’t want her to do, your job is to do two things. First, stop her from doing what she’s doing by startling her. You don’t have to hurt her or terrorize her, just interrupt her by making a noise that evokes what is called the mammalian startle response. If you slap the wall or the table, drop a paperback book, or toss an empty pop can with a few pennies in it on the floor, she should momentarily look up to see what the noise was about. Like lightning, you’re going to take advantage of her attention and redirect it onto doing what you want her to do.