“What you want

Baby, I got it

What you need

You know I’ve got it

All I’m askin’

Is for a little respect…”

~ Otis Redding (1965)

Otis (and later, of course, Aretha) nailed it.  This ol’ world – families, partnerships, businesses, government - is dyin’ for two things. The first is respect, respect that is earned by being accountable.  Honest. Capable.  Fair. Mannerly. Having a sense of Place, Self, and Purpose.

The second? Confident, clear-minded, consistent leadership.  Effective leadership has perspective and a sense of the greater good.  Great leaders expect nothing from those in its charge that the leader wouldn’t be willing to do.

Our relationship with our pets is no different.  Most of the problems we have with our animals come from lack of proper respect and confusion over leadership.  Take the issue of dogs and doors.

Part of establishing a bond with my dogs is setting protocol.  One important aspect of that is who enters and leaves the room and in what order. A dog that bullies its way in or out of doors with no regard for a human who may be carrying groceries, a child, a basket of laundry, a tray of food, is at best annoying, at worst, a hazard. Those with multiple dogs risk an anarchic melee if all creatures, great and small, crowd the door and pile out together.

We start very early establishing door protocol.  With puppies, it starts with gentle restraint at the food bowl.  We place the food down; we decide when the puppy is released to eat.  Gently, patiently, we wait on the youngster to give to the restraint, making the wait incrementally longer with each feeding.

We’re Otis, right? “What you want/Baby I got it.” The respect bit comes in when our puppy learns to respect that release. 

The food bowl drill is one we use throughout the dog’s life. Later, we’ll use it to reinforce “sit” and “whoa.”  For now, though, we’re establishing leadership and respect.  We’re clear in our own minds the outcome we want. We’re consistently persistent is achieving those goals.  We are establishing a bond, forging a relationship with an animal that responds beautifully to routine of time and place.  We feed in the same place, at the same time.  We use the same minimalist cues for the hold and the release each and every time. We don’t take the time to restrain/release the puppy at its food bowl at night, but not the next morning when we’re rushing around for work or swept up in the maelstrom of getting kids off to school.  We respect our dogs and ourselves enough to provide structure and leadership each and every time we feed. That will have huge dividends later.

When I took in Della and Cat Ballou last winter, I was faced with establishing a relationship with two mature animals who’d already been in failed relationships.  Della behaved as if she was in mourning; the Cat was simply a wild Indian with little sense of boundaries or accountability.

Both responded quickly and easily to a gently firm, coherent introduction to clicker training with “sit.” We practiced their “sit” at the food bowls.  We practiced with a treat, putting the dog at “sit,” then tossing a piece of dog biscuit off in front while making the dog wait. We practice it each and every time at the front door, as well as at the dutch door at my study.

Once that was established, we transitioned to releasing one dog at a time, restraining Della while giving the Cat the “alright” command.  The next time, the order was reversed. As our time together progressed, it was easy to see Della becoming more relaxed, more confident. She knew what to expect at important turns in her new life: with feeding, exercise, treats, and bedtime.

For all her exuberance, Cat needed reassured in a different way.  Desperate to please, she was confused when her program of  “Cat jus’ bein’ Cat” met with…uh…er… “strong rebuke.” Her development has required protocols of a different sort: “I do not want a 45 lb. pit bull to launch herself into my unsuspecting lap from five feet away.”  “An open refrigerator door is not an invitation to graze.” “The back of the couch is not a practice balance beam.”  “Our bull Donald, grazing in the pasture, doesn’t need his nose bitten.”

The “fix” for all those behaviors (other than with the bull issue; Donald handled that himself) began at the food bowl and at the doorway to this farmhouse, learning to wait.

Dogs evolved as pack animals, as cooperators working under direction.  They inherently look for order, for routine, for leadership. Our role as caregivers, partners, indeed, friends, if you will, is to provide that structure, to remind them (cue the band), “What you need/you know I’ve got it/all I need is a little respect.”

So many pet owners want to pay a trainer to “fix” their dogs, then provide them with a remote clicker similar to the one that runs their television, one programmed to their dog. Press here for “sit.” Press this button for “come here,” another for “down.” 

Certainly, trainers can be a wonderful assist to getting with your dog.  They can coach the two of you into routines, patterns of behavior that engender mutual respect and establish leadership. But as working military dog trainer Mike Ritland writes in his book, Team Dog, the bonding you and I want, a connection that works for both our dogs and for us, isn’t something you can “outsource.”

“If you truly want a dog to be ‘your’ dog, and to bring to life the idealized vision you have of your relationship, then you have to put the time in and do the work …(A) dog taking an owner for a walk, a hard-charging threat, a jumper, or a food stealer (isn’t a) bad dog, just (a) dog with bad habits.  That doesn’t mean their owners are bad people, just people with bad habits and a poor sense of their own authority.”