They say cats have nine lives, but as far as I know, dogs only have one, and it's always far too short for our liking. 

Note to my clients: If you recognize yourself in this post, just know that it isn't about you. At least, not specifically. Sorry, you aren't that unique. I have had this conversation with many of you. It's okay.

It usually starts like this:

You, my new client, have been working with another trainer.

You don't have any real complaint about your trainer, and your dog likes that trainer, but you feel like you are failing, because things fall apart at home.

The day-to-day just isn't getting easier. 

"I know I need to be the pack leader," you confess to me, "and I know my dog can do these things because he always can do it for the trainer. It's me."

You're so unhappy and frustrated because your dog doesn't respect you. You hope some private lessons with me may help you because despite a lot of hard work, and a dog who performs well in class, you are still really struggling at home.

I suggest we go for a walk. 

And so we walk.

Your dog's tail is up, and he has a grin on his face.

He lifts his nose and inhales the myriad of aromas in the air, and look around for birds, squirrels, other dogs, and people.

He is lost in the beauty of this moment. 

Fido's beloved human, however, is not.

Fido has picked up his pace a little bit, accidentally easing into the ground-eating trot that is a dog's natural gait for moving from one place to another.

You and Fido are ready to begin your twice daily argument.

Fido moves ahead as far as the leash will let him. He isn't dragging you - not quite.   

"Fido..." you say warningly and you tighten the leash a bit. Your heart starts racing. Here we go again, you think. At least this trainer will see it.

Fido doesn't look around. He's used to this. It is just the first of several hundred repetitions of his name that he expects to hear on his walk, almost always with a note of warning. The dog grudgingly backs up a bit. His head swivels around, taking in all the sights.

A few seconds later he is inching further ahead again, stretching his neck to reach bushes, scanning the horizon, looking at everything that isn't you.

I notice that although he is not pulling on the leash - his pinch collar discourages that - he is as far as he can go. You are holding the leash just tight enough to feel you have control.

"Fido!" 

He moves back a bit.

"Do you always want him in heel position on walks?" I ask as we move down the street.

"Well, I try," you say in an exasperated tone of voice. "But you see how he's constantly testing me? He knows what he's supposed to do, but he keeps trying to get out of it."

I agree with your assessment. I feel bad for you - you look so stressed and frustrated. You do this twice a day, every day, or more. You are so tired of it.

We both know that your dog understands your expectations. He has done competition level obedience. He's the star of your agility class. He knows where he is supposed to be. He just doesn't want to be there, and so he's giving you his absolute bare minimum compliance... and you know it. 

"What would happen if we take off the pinch collar?" I wonder.

"The same, mostly... He doesn't go crazy without it. I don't even need it in class. it's just if he sees another dog on a walk, he goes nuts."

"What happens if you pull out a treat?"

"Oh, he'll behave then," you concede, pulling a treat from your pouch. Hearing the rustle he looks around, falls into heel, and his tail begins to wave. He takes on that prance that says so clearly "look at what a good boi I am". 

"But I don't want to have to bribe him every step of our walk every day," you say. "And if we see a dog or sometimes just a person... he won't care about the treats any more."

I believe you.

This dog knows how to get treats and knows he can get them whenever he decides to put in the effort. But he likes to see proof of payment up front. 

I ask if I can try for a bit. You give up the dog happily. You are already exhausted and frustrated and in need of a break. At my request you switch the leash to his harness instead of the pinch collar.

I grasp the leash by the loop and let the other five feet of line pool at my feet. 

We start walking again. The dog, feeling the laxness of my leash, moves joyfully to the verge and starts sniffing a bush.  

I pass Fido while he sniffs, and when I come to the end of the leash, I stop and chirp to him. He picks up his head and trots toward me and we start to move again. He rushes ahead to the next bush. Fido feels the beginnings of tension on the leash and stops. He hasn't noticed yet that his pinch collar is not in operation. I know he'll tug harder once he figures that out. 

I praise him for stopping. "Thanks for waiting for me! What a good boy you are," I say admiringly. He grins at me, wags his tail in acknowledgement, and comes to me for an ear-rub.

I start walking again.

We move along in this start-and-stop way for a block or so, before you say, "you really don't mind him sniffing around like that?" 

"No," I say. "It's his walk, isn't it? This isn't an obedience class."

"Yes...." you say thoughtfully. "But my trainer says you need to keep them at heel all the time."

"Even on pleasure walks?" 

"I... think so?"

"Yeah, I don't believe in that," I say flatly.

I'm not here to slag other trainers. But I'm open about my own opinions and attitudes.

"I teach dogs to heel, and when I ask my dog to heel, she does. But I don't see how she can enjoy her walk if she's busy staring into my face, and I want her to enjoy her walk."

"So when do you use heel?"

"Mmm...at the farmer's market, or in a store, or when we pass someone who is obviously nervous of dogs, or when a car is driving really close past us... You know, times when it's not really appropriate or safe for the dog to be sniffing around. When I need the dog close."

"But..." you aren't arguing. You're just trying to deal with this complete about-face from what you are used to hearing from a dog trainer. "Doesn't it mean that they don't respect you if they ignore you like that?"

"No," I say. "It means the dog is enjoying their walk. They can enjoy their walk AND maintain awareness of where their person is. It's not too much to ask."

Fido has moved to the end of his leash again, so I stop. But he notices immediately and comes back to collect me. I rub his ear and start walking again. "See? He noticed as soon as I stopped."

"What you're saying makes sense," you admit. "But I can't seem to figure out how that works. I've always been told that he's being disobedient if he sniffs around like that."

Now it's time for me to say The Thing... the thing that always seems to devastate the owner so much. I hate to break hearts, but it is at the heart and centre of my attitude toward dogs so you might as well hear it now:

"Fido only has one decade to live. Maybe a dozen years. That's it. You'll get a lot more decades. But he only has one to spend with you."

This part always hits people pretty hard.

There must be people out there who don't love their dog with all of their heart and soul, but those people don't call me so thankfully I never meet them.

You're like all of my clients - your life revolves around Fido. Your stomach clenches at the thought of him dying in the future. You don't even want to think about it.

I know this.

But I said that terrible thing anyway.

When someone asks me for help, I know they care deeply about their dog. But somewhere along the way, priorities got mixed up.

Somewhere along the way... they forgot what really makes dogs happy.

Awards and ribbons don't make dogs happy, they make PEOPLE happy.

Dogs just want to have fun and work with their special person.

Their person picks a game of "how fast can you jump those hurdles?" or "can you find the birch scent?" and the dog is like "I dunno, let's find out!"

Heeling for treats in the ring is a fun way to spend the occasional afternoon, but Fido also has a lot of other things on his to-do list for today, like sniffing pee and tracking that squirrel and playing ball... and if the owner spends all of their time issuing orders and stopping Fido from achieving their own goals, the dog's patience will start to wear thin. 

If your dog knows what you want them to do, and they don't do it, then you've asked them for more than they feel they can or should have to give you.

And if you insist on it, you may have lost sight of your priorities.

Your priority - if you love your dog - should not be obedience or a bit of ribbon.

Your priority should be your dog's brief little life.

Ask yourself, "does this matter to my dog's life, my own life... or neither?"

If it involves safety, or health, or some other aspect of your dog's welfare, then by all means, proceed.

If it involves your own safety or health or some other serious aspect of your welfare, then by all means, proceed. You matter too!

But if your dog HAS to sit in a cold wet puddle before crossing the road... who benefits? If your dog hates it enough to resist you... is it worth putting a dent in your friendship over sitting in a puddle?

If your dog is just never allowed to sniff on a walk... where is the benefit? Your dog isn't endangering you by sniffing. Tugging on the leash can be dangerous, sure. But the act of sniffing is not, unless they are sniffing poison or a bomb.

That's why I only insist when it is important. I only prevent sniffing when it is important. I only make demands when it is important to either me... or them.

I will insist that my dog visit the vet, even if my dog had other plans today.

I will not insist that my dog sit at a street corner.

I will insist that my dog leave my lunch on the table.

I will not refuse to put safe tasty scraps in their dinner bowl.

And yes, dogs do understand the difference between something being important versus a human just having control issues. Sometimes they think something isn't important because they don't trust us to make that call.

"Oh, going to the vet is important? Yeah, well, you think it's impossible to cross a road unless I sit and I'm pretty sure that's nonsense."

That's why there are times when treats fail and your dog will tell you where you can stick that ham, because she's not leaving her new bestest buddy at the dog park. 

She doesn't see coming to you as important. She doesn't see it as a gift of ham. She sees it for what it is - a bribe.

But what if you prioritized relationship over obedience?

Because here's the funny thing...

My dogs will leave their new bestest buddy in the park to come running when I call.

Even when I don't have treats. 

And it's BECAUSE I don't feel entitled to constant obedience.

I don't call my dogs often. When I do, I have a good reason. And I am always, always grateful to my dog for listening to me and I make sure they don't regret their decision to listen to me.

They're my best friends.... not my serfs. They don't resent my requests. They are eager to respond to them.

When your best friend calls you and asks you to please come over right now because it is urgent... do you drop what you are doing and go to them, or do you tell say, "ummm.... the new season of Stranger Things just dropped, so maybe next time"?

Now, what if it was your boss calling...? Would you respond with the same level of urgency?

Unless you're a surgeon or you really like your boss... probably not.

If you want to really want your dog to respect and respond to you, you need to prioritize your dog's life.

And that means you may have to choose - obedience or relationship?

Because you only have a few years together.

Enjoy them.