In Search Of The Ever Elusive Perfect Dog
In the midst of grocery shopping the other day I stole a few minutes to browse the magazine aisle. One headline jumped out at me. “HOW TO TRAIN THE PERFECT DOG,” it read, against a slick color close-up of a certain celebrity dog trainer.
“Ahh, the Perfect Dog,” I sighed as I moved on in search of apples. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard of this creature. Loads of people are convinced he or she exists. You know, the dog who never barks, digs up gardens, or chews stuff. PerfectDog never jumps on people or pulls on leash or begs, and wouldn’t dream of raiding kitchen counters or garbage bins. PD loves other dogs, plays Perfectly with all dogs, and adores everyone all the time, vets and groomers included. PD never gets scared or growls or whines. PD stays, sits, lies down, leaves things alone and comes when you call, anywhere anytime, even if gophers are salsa dancing in front of his nose — and he does all this the first time you ask.
I hear folks lamenting a lot about their dogs’ imperfections. “Viv’s almost perfect. If only she’d quit barking when the doorbell rings and stop begging at the table,” they say with grim looks on their faces. Some rate their dogs’ level of perfection. “ Fred’s 80% perfect. If only he’d stop growling at men in hats.”
Almost? 80% perfect? Fred and Viv sound like top students to me. So why the sad looks on the guardians’ faces?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for well-behaved polite dogs. I know what it’s like to live with and train a dog with behavioral issues. My dog’s got a few. But what’s up with holding dogs to a canine standard of perfection? I’ve been on the planet for a while, I’ve lived in three different countries and traveled quite a bit. Yet, I don’t know a single human who can claim the title of Perfect. Why do we expect dogs to be perfect when we aren’t?
I’ll continue to ponder that question. I do know that many humans tend to focus on what’s wrong with stuff, rather than what’s going well. We home in on how badly Fred pulls on leash, or how obnoxious it is when he won’t stop chasing the damn pigeons. We barely notice the times that Fred does walk nicely on a loose leash, or the times we called him to come away from dog play and flying Frisbees, and he did.
If you were to take a “bowl-half-full” approach, you’d probably be surprised at how brilliantly Fred behaves and how often. Try an experiment. Pick an evening when you and Fred will be at home. Make a note of every time he behaves politely or in a way that you like over a pre-determined time period. I’d bet he behaves well significantly more often than you’d thought.
If you aren’t in the habit of noticing Fred’s polite manners, you may not think to reward him for his wonderful behavior. Rewarding good behavior is fun for your dog, and there are sound reasons to do it. Behavior that’s rewarded increases in frequency and intensity. This isn’t a matter of opinion. It’s a tried and true principle of behavioral science. Rewarding Fred for good behavior makes it more likely that he’ll do the behavior again. Timely rewards give him important feedback about which behaviors you like.
By the same token, not rewarding Fred’s good behavior will cause that behavior to disappear or extinguish. If you like the way Fred’s behaving, let him know. Reward that dog! He’s earned it.
When you start observing all of Fred’s lovely behavior something else may happen. You may be pleased with him, or tickled, heck – you might even feel proud of him. Instead of harboring constant low-grade frustration about Fred’s behavioral flaws, you might start thinking, “Fred sure is a great dog. I love the way he sits when he’s trying to get my attention. I love that guy.”
The bowl-half-full approach doesn’t mean we should ignore problem behaviors. If those arise they should be addressed as soon as possible through positive training. But noticing and rewarding Fred’s good doggy manners will make your relationship that much more positive and harmonious, and go a long way to ensuring that Fred behaves politely again and again.
As for that elusive PerfectDog, more on him in Part II of this post, “Dogs Will Be Dogs.”

