08/08/2026
Read & think and read again ā¦ big home truths about what we are doing with our dogsā¦..love it šš»
Reclaiming the Word Balanced
I want to reclaim the word balanced.
There. I said it.
And before anybody starts reaching for their keyboard, I donāt mean ābalancedā as in a bit of chicken in one hand and something unpleasant in the other.
Iām talking about reclaiming balance in how we raise dogs.
Because somewhere along the way, I think weāve lost the plot a little bit.
We seem to have created two opposing camps.
At one end, thereās:
āPut this on your dog.ā
āCorrect that.ā
āPress this button.ā
āDonāt let them get away with it.ā
And at the other:
āDonāt expose them to anything.ā
āClose the blinds.ā
āDonāt walk them.ā
āScatter some food.ā
āLet them decompress.ā
āGive them another lick mat.ā
And somewhere in the middle of all this noise, I sometimes wonder whether weāve forgotten something fairly fundamental:
How to actually raise a dog.
The things experienced dog owners donāt see as problems
I was working with someone recently, and it got me thinking.
I could see several tiny behaviours beginning to emerge in their dog. Nothing catastrophic. Nothing worthy of a Netflix documentary.
Just little flickers.
And it made me think about the dogs Iāve raised myself.
Iāve owned around 30 dogs during my lifetime and currently live with 15 of my own. Thatās a lot of dogs. A lot of adolescence. A lot of hormones. A lot of inappropriate decisions.
And probably a lot of chewed things Iād rather forget about.
My dogs arenāt robots.
Theyāve done stupid things. Theyāve tested boundaries. Theyāve had disagreements. Theyāve developed inappropriate interests. Theyāve occasionally made decisions that have made me think:
āWell, that was bloody stupid.ā
Theyāre dogs.
But perhaps one of the biggest things experience gives you is the ability to recognise the flicker before it becomes a fire.
You see something and think:
āAh. I know where this could go.ā
And you deal with it.
Not six months later when itās become an established behaviour.
Now.
Normal doesnāt mean leave it alone
Take a Border Collie chasing flies.
Border Collies are genetically predisposed to notice movement. Weāve selectively bred them for generations to be extraordinarily sensitive to it.
So a young Border Collie becoming fascinated by a fly isnāt exactly breaking news.
Initially, it can look quite funny.
Fly moves.
Dog stalks fly.
Dog chases fly.
Everyone laughs.
Except the dog is potentially getting something incredibly valuable from that interaction.
Movement triggers behaviour. Behaviour produces gratification. The dog gets its little dopamine hit.
āOooooh. That was good.ā
So it does it again.
And again.
And again.
Eventually, something that began as a relatively innocuous expression of genetics can become highly rehearsed and self-reinforcing.
Now try stopping it.
Suddenly youāre removing access to something the dog REALLY enjoys.
And thatās where frustration, conflict and even redirected behaviour can appear.
The behaviour wasnāt necessarily abnormal to begin with.
But normal doesnāt automatically mean desirable.
And understanding the difference is incredibly important.
Dogs resource guard. Humans do too.
Resource guarding is another example.
Put several dogs together and occasionally theyāre going to disagree about stuff.
Food.
Toys.
Beds.
People.
Space.
Thatās mine.
Move.
I had that first.
You have children? Congratulations. Youāve probably witnessed resource guarding too.
āTHATāS MINE!ā
āHEāS GOT MY THING!ā
āSHE CAME IN MY ROOM!ā
āMUUUUUUUM!ā
We donāt immediately diagnose the children with a behavioural disorder.
We educate them.
Sometimes you share.
Sometimes you donāt have to share.
Thatās yours.
Thatās theirs.
Donāt take things from each other.
Give it back.
Stop winding your sister up.
Basic social education.
Yet when dogs display perfectly understandable social behaviours, we can sometimes catastrophise them.
Of course resource guarding can become serious. Of course it needs appropriate management and intervention.
But the first tiny grumble over a toy doesnāt necessarily mean youāve got Cujo living in the kitchen.
It means you need to pay attention.
And then adolescence arrivesā¦
Oh joy.
The teenage years.
Your delightful puppy suddenly discovers hormones, independence and opinions.
Anyone who has raised a teenager knows roughly how this goes.
They test boundaries.
They make questionable choices.
They hang around with individuals youād rather they didnāt.
They stay out later than youād like.
They discover things you wish they hadnāt.
And eventually they bring home a boyfriend or girlfriend you canāt stand.
Welcome to adolescence.
We understand that humans need guidance through this period.
We donāt expect to tell a 14-year-old something once and have them respond:
āThank you for your guidance. I completely understand your perspective and shall modify my future behaviour accordingly.ā
If you have one of those, congratulations.
Perhaps have them cloned.
Yet with dogs, people become incredibly disheartened when theyāve redirected something three times and the dog does it again.
Of course it did.
Training takes repetition. Education takes repetition. Growing up takes repetition.
Some dogs are easy.
Some are tenacious little sods.
Iāve owned both.
Positive does NOT mean permissive
This has been one of my mantras for years:
Positive is not permissive.
Removing aversive tools from my toolbox doesnāt mean removing boundaries.
I donāt need to hurt a dog to tell it I donāt want it doing something.
I donāt need to frighten it.
I donāt need to intimidate it.
I donāt need to string it up, hit it, shock it or cause it pain.
But equally, I donāt have to stand there throwing cocktail sausages at it while it dismantles my sofa.
There is another option.
Education.
My dog starts chewing the sofa.
I interrupt.
āNope. Not that.ā
Hereās a bone.
Chew this instead.
Dog goes back to the sofa.
I interrupt again.
Hereās your bone.
Dog goes back again.
Okay. Clearly youāre currently more committed to interior design than I anticipated.
So perhaps Iāll put you on a lead for a while. Iāll prevent access to the sofa. Iāll make the appropriate option easier and more reinforcing.
And tomorrow weāll practise again.
No drama.
No rage.
No battle.
No need for a medieval torture device.
But equally, Iām not letting you eat my bloody sofa.
Thatās a boundary.
And Iām perfectly entitled to have one.
Sometimes the consequence is simply: that doesnāt work
This is something I think weāve lost sight of.
Not every consequence needs to be painful or frightening.
Sometimes the consequence of an inappropriate behaviour is simply:
That avenue doesnāt work.
You try chewing the sofa.
I interrupt you.
You try again.
I interrupt you again.
You try for the 48th time.
Guess what?
Iām still here.
And I will calmly interrupt you for the 49th.
Eventually, the dog learns:
āThis isnāt particularly productive.ā
Meanwhile, Iāve provided appropriate outlets and reinforced the behaviours I do want.
Thatās training.
Thatās education.
Thatās persistence.
And persistence is massively underrated.
Reinforcement isnāt pacification
I LOVE reinforcement.
My entire training philosophy is built around understanding reinforcement and using it intelligently.
But thereās a difference between reinforcing behaviour and pacifying a dog with food.
Food isnāt magic dust.
And indiscriminately feeding a dog isnāt necessarily training.
What behaviour am I reinforcing?
Why?
What is the dog learning?
What happens when the food isnāt available?
What skills am I actually developing?
Those questions matter.
Somewhere along the line, weāve occasionally started behaving as though the alternative to punishment is simply feeding continuously.
It isnāt.
Just as taking treats out of your pocket doesnāt automatically make you a dog trainer, putting them into your pocket doesnāt make you permissive.
Reinforcement should have purpose.
The pendulum has swung
Dog training desperately needed to change.
Weāve learned more.
Weāve questioned methods that caused pain, fear and intimidation.
Weāve become better at recognising emotion.
Weāve learned about genetics, arousal, stress, reinforcement, environment and choice.
That is progress.
I have absolutely no desire to go backwards.
But progress shouldnāt prevent us from asking whether weāve occasionally swung the pendulum too far.
Because the answer to:
āCorrect everything.ā
cannot simply become:
āNever tell a dog it canāt do anything.ā
The answer to:
āMake the dog comply.ā
isnāt:
āRemove every expectation.ā
And the answer to inappropriate behaviour isnāt always:
āScatter some chicken.ā
Sometimes a dog needs us to say:
No. Weāre not doing that. But let me show you what you CAN do instead.
Kindly.
Clearly.
Consistently.
Thatās the balance I want back
So yes.
Iām reclaiming the word balanced.
Not balanced tools.
Not half reinforcement and half punishment.
Not chicken in one pocket and an aversive in the other.
Iām talking about a balanced perspective on raising dogs.
Love AND boundaries.
Freedom AND responsibility.
Reinforcement AND expectations.
Compassion AND clarity.
Understanding genetics without using genetics as an excuse.
Accepting normal behaviour without allowing every normal behaviour to flourish unchecked.
Managing when necessary without making avoidance a permanent way of life.
Allowing dogs to make choices while recognising that sometimes the answer to their choice is:
āNo. Pick another one.ā
I want dogs that are confident.
Social.
Resilient.
Happy.
Optimistic.
Amenable.
Able to cope with frustration.
Able to exist in the real world.
Able to hear ānot thatā without falling apart.
And able to make good choices because theyāve actually been taught how to make them.
Iāve raised enough dogs to know that none of that requires violence.
But it doesnāt require permissiveness either.
There is an enormous amount of space between those two extremes.
And perhaps itās time we occupied it again.
Because kindness doesnāt mean weakness.
Boundaries donāt require brutality.
Reinforcement doesnāt mean bribery.
Management doesnāt mean avoidance.
And positiveā¦doesnāt mean permissive.
Thatās the kind of balanced dog training Iām more than happy to put my name to.
