Dog Training – It’s About the Relationship, Silly

 

Michael Baugh CDBC CPDT-KSA 

We’ve come full circle. Good dog trainers have always known that teaching is about relationships. It’s not so much “leadership,” (Do it or else). It’s more about cooperation (Let’s work on this together). We’ve known this even though for a while it looked like we forgot.

To some extent or another, too many of us became fix-it trainers. Dogs became a list of problems to solve. Our business coaches told us that’s what clients wanted–results, nothing more. We knew they were wrong, but we changed our business plans and turned our web sites over to them (at no small cost). And fix-it we did. We stopped the crummy behavior from happening and taught the shiny new behavior instead. We packaged it up as solutions and modifications, like we were tricking out cars. All the while, we still knew. This is about the relationship, silly. The human, the dog, the team.

It’s all come full circle. Relationships are the thing again, and rightly so. Maybe it was Covid. I learned a whole new way of living with my dogs, as you probably did too. It drew us closer. It taught us new lessons. Deeper ones, I think.

Take notice. The world slowed down, at least a little, at least for a little while. I could (and did) spend hours just watching my dogs. There was time to notice what they paid attention to. I saw what they did more often and in greater detail. I even watched them sleep. And here’s the other thing. I noticed them noticing me. They watch us, follow us, and listen to us far more than we give them credit for.

Communicate. There have been several studies that suggest dogs understand our meaning far better than we understand theirs. They read our facial expressions, our voices, and even our casual gestures and accurately interpret our intent. We know this, if we are paying attention, because of how they respond. They have their own gestures and expressions. It’s been called a language of sorts, and we can learn it. This is the bedrock of training, mastering the give and take, the quid pro quo, the rap-and-riff of our interactions with dogs. It’s like good improv. A little something from me, a little something from you. A conversation.

Turn towards, not away. All we have to do is to lean into this truth. Dog training is not a top-down endeavor. It’s a back-and-forth. Our dogs have intention. They are thinking and feeling. Psychologist John Gottman taught this concept in marriage. When our partner reaches out (Gottman calls this a “bid”), the more we turn toward them to engage and exchange, the richer our marriage will become. There is a parallel here for all relationships, including the learning relationship we have with our non-human friends. Your dog, I guarantee it, is always bidding. He’s exploring his agency in the world, gambling, engaging, experimenting. Turn towards that behavior, towards your dog, not away from it. Connect. Collaborate. Build shared understanding. Add fluidity to learning. Create trust.

This is not ethereal pie-in-the-sky thinking. It’s foundational. There is certainly a time and a place for fixing problem behaviors. There’s a place for teaching cool skills and even tricks (tricking out your dog). If you’re focused on the results alone, though, you will struggle. In fact, often the struggle is all you will see. I wonder sometimes why it all feels so difficult. What if we saw our dog instead of the struggle, this other life in the room? What if we were open to the conversation? I see you and I smile and I know you know what that means. I see your bid–for attention, for engagement, for a chance to choose this or that. How could I miss it? You’re here, breathing and thinking and real.

I turn toward you. How could I not, you delightful, crazy, adorable, sometimes problematic, dog?

 

Michael Baugh teaches dog training and behavior in Houston, TX. He specializes in aggressive dog behavior.

 

Dog Training: Teaching, Learning, and the Gift of Humility

Michael Baugh CDBC CPDT-KSA

I’ve been a professional dog trainer for a long time, since 1999. Sit me down over a bottle of wine for a chat about behavior science and I can hold my own with any of my peers and many of my mentors (better than I can hold the wine probably). I’ve got the credentials. I’ve got the education. I’ve got the google reviews. And yes, I’ve even got the t-shirt (more than a few). And, let’s be honest; I’m proud of all of that.

But, let me also be honest with myself. None of that – none of the dogs and clients that have come before – matter as much as the next dog and the next client. This work is humbling. There is no room for bravado or hubris. No flippant mention of the hundred dogs I’ve seen or the hardest cases I’ve solved will get me through my next consultation if I’m not humble enough to take it on like it’s my first. Bring your A-game, yes. But, as the saying goes, leave your pride at the door. That dog won’t be fooled. He may not bite me on the hand but he will cut me at the knees and bring me fumbling back to basics faster than I can say where I earned my last degree.

Note to self, all of this. Preaching comes easier than the practice.

I am deep into a continuing education course as I write this. It’s meaty content – still dog training, but outside my area of expertise. Learning is hard work, grit and grind. It’s the gift of taking pause and taking in what you don’t know. Opening the mind, rearranging all the old truth to make room for the new. It’s the gift, too, of humility – standing less rigidly – bowing more with arms outstretched – the weight of ego falling away to make room for the heft of knowledge.

This is why I think of you, my clients, so often these days because I am also bending and learning the way you have. It’s hard wrapping myself around the newness and the knowledge. I’ve been inspired by you – so open to learning, so kind, and smart. I’m inspired by your dogs, so willing to risk, so eager to take on the world, hungry to loosen and adapt. Learning is hard and I’m reminded now each day of how well you do it. Sure a tough case will cut me down if I’m too stiff and haughty. But, more often you lift me up, kind learners and your dogs. You are the heroes of my day’s work, day in and day out. Your artful skill of taking in and applying new information so quickly and with such aplomb takes my breath. I don’t admit it often much less preach it enough. But, here I am – less on my high horse than on my little soap box – calling it out so everyone knows. You, dear people and you, beloved dogs. You make me look smart. And, I am as grateful for that as I am humbled by your awesomeness.

Michael Baugh teaches dog training in Houston TX. He specializes in aggressive dog training.

What Dog Training Taught me About Life (so far)

Michael Baugh CDBC CPDT-KSA

I’m just going to put this out there. Life is hard right now. Don’t get me wrong. Life is also beautiful and there’s a lot of joy to be had. Yes, that is true and cause for gratitude. And also – right now a lot of folks are suffering. We are in a pandemic that seems relentless. Natural disasters sometimes seem unnaturally frequent and intense. We are divided and at each other’s throats over just about everything and anything (including the pandemic and natural disasters). I won’t even mention politics. Because really do I have to? Even when the day-to-day seems to be humming along there is an undercurrent of suffering. Some have gone so far as to identify it an epidemic of despair. 

I am not immune and I doubt you are either. And I don’t have all the answers, that’s for sure. But, maybe I have one or two answers worthy of your consideration. They are things I’ve learned from working with my favorite teachers: dogs.

Call in help. Just about everyone reading this at one point called me for help with their dog. All of us need to remember that wisdom now. When shit gets hard in life – when the despair seems too heavy to carry – when the irritability and sadness seem overwhelming – call in help. No, don’t call your dog trainer (I’m not qualified). Call in family, friends, clergy, mental health professionals. We are social creatures (we share that with dogs, too). We are not built to work this stuff out alone. And we don’t have to. Rally the team around you. And for real, if life feels hard like it’s never felt hard before – call 911. They can help.

Break things down. We all do this when we are working with our dogs (remember the term “splitting?). Big problems are made up of small parts. When we look at them as a whole they can feel like indomitable monsters. Don’t do that. Look at the smaller parts. Choose one. Begin there.

Expect change. This is the constant nature of all things: Change. Yes, things sometimes change for the worse. Just as often, they change for the better. Expect it. Use it. Our actions influence change as well. None of this is permanent. Knowing that leads to hope and hope leads to, well, more change. It’s the stuff of life.

Play. Dogs do it. Play is healing balm for all social creatures. It inspires laughter, conversation, and  interconnectedness. My neighbors and I will very likely never vote for the same political candidate. But, it is equally doubtful we will ever miss our weekend game night either. Give it a try. Or at least give it some thought.

When in doubt lead with kindness. I work with aggressive dogs. That means many of them want to bite me. And yet, I’ve only actually been bitten a handful of times. Why? Kindness works. Make no mistake. Kindness is not weakness. It’s smart and it’s strong. I use the word lead with intention. Kindness is our first move and it’s also how we lead. I mentioned calling in help. Why not call with help, too? Take the lead. Call a friend or family member with a little morsel of kindness. Send your veteriarian a thank you card (they are working their butts off). When you ask someone “how ya doin’?” make eye contact. Stay present. Listen. Be kind. Smile at a stranger. Kindness is just about the only thing we can give away and still lose nothing. In fact, we usually get some extra in return.

It’s hard. I know (really, I know). Be kind. Hell no! Right? (Sigh). Wrong. How many times this year, this month, or this week have we all felt like – I don’t know what I can do to help. It’s too much? The answer is right there: Kindness. We’ve got that. We can do kindness. And, kindness always helps. Always.

Just ask your dogs. They can’t tell you, but they’ve been trying to show you for years.

Michael Baugh CDBC CPDT-KSA lives in the same challenging moment in history as you. He teaches dog training in Houston, TX.