Oh Behave!

In my last post I pondered the legend of the PerfectDog and suggested adopting a different perspective on dog behavior – a “bowl-half-full” approach. Part of that bowl-half-full approach is having realistic expectations for dog behavior. This means realizing that like humans and other species, no dog is perfect, and accepting that dogs are after all, dogs.

Dogs bark, chew, shred stuff, dig and chase things that move. These are innate behaviors that dogs come pre-programmed with the same way humans come hard-wired to look for patterns in our environments and to speak. Dogs are close relatives of wolves and share DNA so similar that the two can mate and produce viable fertile offspring. Though dogs aren’t wolves, dogs have inherited some wolf behavior. That’s why some dogs guard food and other things they value, dissect stuffed animals, chase moving objects, chew and bury things.

So often, humans expect dogs to behave more like stuffed animals and less like dogs. I’m puzzled over that. We don’t expect fish not to swim or monkeys not to swing from trees. Why a different standard for dogs? That’s another question I can’t answer. Dogs need to be real live dogs, free to indulge their true doggy essences some of the time. In addition to exercise, mental stimulation, attention, love and fun, dogs need legal outlets for dog behavior. Otherwise they’ll find other channels for their stores of doggy energy, often engaging in activities we find irritating to say the least. Boredom barking anyone? How about dissection practice with every paper item in the recycling bin? Or maybe a digging party in the indoor planters?

“Misbehavior” isn’t the dog’s fault. It’s ours. It’s up to us to train and communicate consistently with our dogs about what they can do and when they can do it. And like any good relationship, it’s important to do some give and take when crafting a living arrangement with our dogs. Sacrificing a few square feet of our small garden for a legal digging pit for Vinnie was a small price to pay for keeping his paws out of my husband’s beloved indoor planters and flowerbeds. Once we installed the digging pit, we were liberated – Vinnie could dig to his heart’s content and we were free to marvel at how he seemed to remember exactly where he’d cached something, days after having buried it. Similarly, investing in some bully sticks and food puzzle toys was well worth it to keep Vinnie’s teeth off of everything else in our home. We’ve compromised a little, so has Vin, and at the end of the day, everyone benefits, everyone’s happier.

Dogs will be dogs, not stuffed animals or figurines or rugs. Forget about that mythical PerfectDog. Train your dog to behave the way you like. Appreciate him for his unique personality and all his dog-ness. Wonder at the magnificent being that he is. And if you get frustrated, it helps to remember that like each of us your dog is a wonderful work in progress.

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.

Early attempts at counter surfing

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.”