Every good dog knows her place.

10 Things I’ve Learned About Leading Dogs

Lesson #2:  Before Leila, in my “average dog owner” days, I heard a lot about “crate-training.” Why it is so helpful in housebreaking, how dogs themselves seek the safety of the crate, how convenient it is in a busy household with multiple animals and kids. And…I pretty much disregarded all of it. 

Why was I so sure crate-training was for some other dog owner, and not me? Well, remember, I had the perfect dog. Cooper didn’t need to be contained, restrained or restricted. Godzilla was another case altogether. But instead of crating him, I slept with him. Yep. I did. He was small and cuddly, and it really comforted both of us to have him with me every night. I never really believed there was a connection between his insane behavior during our waking hours and the fact that he shared my bed. So, the element of my stubbornness may well have been in play here. OK, it was.  

Savage thinks cats should have the safety of a crate, too.
Leila's crate contains a bed, toys and fresh water.  

Since that time, I’ve learned some things. Crating isn’t just a convenience for people. And it should never be about punishment or isolating dogs from the rest of the family. It actually helps dogs relax, especially those who have a hard time managing their own insecurities, impulses and instincts to guard or be territorial. Why that is, is up for debate.  

Some people say that teaching dogs to relax in a crate instills a sense of security because they are genetically programmed to “den” – i.e., to dig and then live communally in a hole in the ground, like their wolf ancestors, who have been observed to do this. Others assert there’s really not enough evidence to say that about dogs, who don’t behave exactly the same way that wolves do. OK. But we know that wild female dogs will dig a nest in the form of a den to crawl into, whelp, nurse and raise their puppies, safe from predators. And Elizabeth Marshall Thomas, who wrote The Hidden Life of Dogs, observed that her pack of 12 dogs, left on their own to do whatever the heck they wanted to do in her back yard, eventually did live in a den of their own making. An interesting book to read, not that I would want to live with dogs in quite this way.  

Crate-training probably won't solve every behavioral 

concern. But it's a solid beginning for the

journey to a confident, balanced dog.

Whatever is true about why crate-training helps create a calmer dog, it makes perfect sense to me that a dog who knows where, and what, her place is, is more serene. I talk to a lot of people who have dogs, and of course we talk about dog behavior and how hard it can be sometimes to live with them. Amazingly, very few provide a “place” for their dog. What I mean is, the dog has complete freedom in the house, jumps up on couches and beds that are also used by people, and doesn’t have a clear sense of where they belong in the rooms where people and dogs hang out together.  

Very often, these same people who treat their dogs as equal owners of the space in which they live, tell me about problems that confound and upset them. For instance, their dogs don’t like it when their humans ask them to “move over” or “get down.” Sometimes they even growl their irritation about it. They bark uncontrollably when someone enters the house and it takes a long time for them to settle down, while their frantic, embarrassed human chases after them and tries to settle them down. They pace around the house guarding anxiously, alert and armed like an alarm for the next home invasion. Or they follow their person around the house, constantly seeking reassurance through contact, unable to separate with confidence, unsure of…what? Their place.   

This was Leila, when she came to live with us. And this was also my life with Godzilla. Is this you and your dog? If so, here’s what I’ve learned.  

Lesson:  whether you provide a crate, a dog bed or even just a towel or blanket on the floor for your dog, it’s important that wherever her human family tends to congregate, your dog knows where she belongs. We have several such places for Leila – wherever we hang out together. The crate is in the living room, there’s a bed with a tie-down in the breakfast room where we have coffee in the morning, and she has her own very comfortable bed in our bedroom.  

July 4, 2015 - Leila on tie-down in the breakfast room.
The annual fireworks cataclysm in Oakland. We're good.

Leila’s trainers taught us that structure for your dog in her home means more than convenience and control – although it certainly offers that. What it also means is that your dog has a place where nothing is demanded or expected of them – except relaxation. Meditation, even. Consistently putting a dog in a crate, or on a tie-down on their own bed or blanket, teaches them that you are actually in charge and it’s OK for them to let go. The message is, “you’re off the clock; your services are not required at this time.” Or, as our trainers Kathy and Mahogany would say, your dog will eventually learn that she is “off duty for life.” Many good trainers teach the concept of “place” as a fundamental.  

These are good messages for a dog, especially one like Leila – insecure, but territorial, who anxiously believed that her function as a working dog was to protect us from all incursions. Leila’s anxiety was painful for us. It caused her to break windows in an effort to fend off passersby. It caused her to treat our most favored friends who visited our home as threats. But it was probably most painful of all to her. Can you imagine the burden she carried? Dogs with separation anxiety have a similar burden, which I understand can also really be helped with this kind of structure.  

An example of crate training success that I discounted for years. My very smart brother's sweet, balanced dog. Trixie is a cattle dog/pit bull mix with high drive, raised in an apartment with love, lots of exercise, awesome leadership and the clarity and safety of a crate. Here she is, enjoying its comfort. Props to you, Michael.  

I was an average dog person. Then came Leila.

Leila

When I adopted an insecure, territorial 75 lb. Anatolian Shepherd mix named Leila, my life changed.  Irrevocably.  

From toddlerhood, I’ve been in love with dogs.  But for most of my adult life, I’ve really only been what I’d now call an “average” dog owner.  No real understanding or dedication to what my dog needed.  A few rules, not many.  Ambiguous and ever-changing use of language for important commands.  Some exercise, not very much.  

Cooper

I got away with this because my first dog in adulthood was essentially the perfect dog.  Cooper, a Newfoundland/Irish Setter mix, lived with me for almost 14 years.  Ironically, people used to call me for advice about dog behavior problems because of how astoundingly well-behaved Cooper was, and I’d go…uh…maybe ask your vet?  Hah! 

Godzilla

Then, I scooped up off the street an outrageously imperfect dog.  A Yorkshire Terrier I aptly named “Godzilla.”  There goes Tokyo.  He attacked everyone on the way into the house, on the way out of the house, and if they made any false moves in the house.  But luckily he only weighed about 10 lbs.  

I therefore never had to learn much about what it means to provide structure and clarity and to understand and truly lead a dog of serious size and damage potential who depends on you for all of the lessons that will help them to adapt to human expectations.  And survive. 

I know a lot more now.  Maybe what I’ve learned can add to your journey with the dog or dogs in your life. 

10 Things I’ve Learned About Leading Dogs

Lesson #1 - The leash.  As an average dog owner, I understood that the leash was supposed to keep my dog from tearing off after a distant squirrel, running pell mell into traffic and ending his life abruptly.  Well, it’s that.  But it’s a lot more.  The leash is your line of communication with your dog, and it’s also like an umbilical cord, providing a link of security between you and your dog.  It’s a lifeline, and your dog knows it.  Working with your dog on leash is one of the primary elements of building your relationship.  

I first learned this lesson from Cooper, the almost perfect dog.  He had gone up a slippery spiral staircase that he had previously, well, slipped down.  And, because of that previous slip, he wouldn’t come down on his own this time.  Scared and panting at the top of the stairs, he simply would not move.  I coaxed and pleaded and ordered him like a drill sergeant, but nothing I said or barked at him made a difference.  Then the lightbulb of inspiration prompted me to get his leash.  I walked up the stairs, clipped it on his collar, and he stood and marched down those stairs next to me with confidence.  Good dog. 

Lesson:  your dog will do many things much more readily because you’ve connected him to you with the leash.  If you find yourself yelling commands at your dog, and he’s looking at you with what looks like obstinacy, or fear, or boredom, or uncertainty…calmly get the leash and walk him through what it is you’re asking him to do.  Once you do this enough times, your dog will understand, through repeated physical action, what you’re asking of him and that you mean it.  When words aren’t working, use the leash.  Not as a punishment; as a guide.  It works, most of the time.  I could write pages on what I’ve learned about leash handling and communication, but I’ll save that for another time.