Years ago, when I began dog training, Manhattan was full of trained dogs.  After all, you had to ride in an elevator with your dog and sometimes he wasn’t the only dog there.  You had to navigate streets full of people and other dogs.  You lived in an apartment where other dogs passed your door on their way home.  And you took your dog to the bank, the dry cleaner, the hardware store and to lunch at outdoor cafes.  So logic would have it that your dog needed really good manners, that he’d hardly ever misbehave.


Now I see people feeding their dogs.  Make a poop, have a treat.  Sit at the curb, here’s a cookie. Don’t jump up and try to steal food off the table at an outdoor cafe, here’s some other food instead.  But I don’t see trained dogs.  I see dogs looking at food pouches or pockets, not at the clues and emotions in their person’s face.  I see dogs who do not know how to work and I wonder, what happened to all those horrible, cruel trainers of yesteryear who turned out such happy, secure, well-behaved dogs, dogs who could be off leash in Central Park and come back when called, dogs who knew how to stitch together commands that made sense in context so that they weren’t just obeying, they were working.

Dog training, at its best, is a meeting of two minds.

Both photos from "Do Border Collies Dream of Sheep?"

Both photos from “Do Border Collies Dream of Sheep?”

Think about it – it is the meeting of two minds of two different species.  And it works.  It can be accomplished.   Start with your new puppy by walking around the house, asking your dog to follow you.  Use your voice to entice.  Use your body language.  Be inviting.  If your dog is older, a teen or an adult, add a leash and take the exercise out of doors.  From this gentle, good beginning, your dog learns to pay attention to you, to follow your lead, to watch your face and body language, to want to be with you, to be near you, for the pleasure of this relationship.  And take it from there.

Gadget-free dog training.  A meeting of two minds.  Where it’s at, folks.  Where it’s at.