We all grew up with the same idea of ​​how dogs work: they use physical force to fight to be the alpha, to subdue competing dogs in the pack. This notion is so ingrained into our psyche that top dog in English means you are the most ‘dominant’. Even people who have no interest in anything dog related will no doubt have heard of the importance of being dominant, the leader of the pack, the alpha.

Even now, when it’s been completely disproven, so much so that most trainers will look down on anyone who dares utter the term “dominance” or worse! – “alpha role”, this idea that dogs are trying to take over the world, one owner at a time, is still a sadly prevalent thought among dog enthusiasts.

Everything from pulling on the leash and jumping, to eating something dropped on the floor and chasing the cat, has been blamed on the dog’s quest for supremacy or the owner’s lack of leadership skills.

It really is a wonder that we call dogs man’s best friend, with this so-called friend constantly trying to overthrow us. You feed him, bathe him, care for him, and in some cases even dress him, take him to the vet when he’s sick, and give him a comfortable place to sleep when he’s tired, and how does he repay you? Giving a coup! The nervous! But how did this mistaken notion of rank come about?

We all know that wolves dominate each other, they have a strict hierarchy where subordinates are denied major resources and individuals are constantly fighting for dominance, right? Well no, that’s not exactly how it works. It turns out that our previous notions of lupine social behavior were based on captive wolves. Individuals from different herds were forced to live in close proximity to each other, a very unnatural condition for them, which led to very unnatural behavior. Bloodbaths over resources were the result of stress, whereas in the wild there are no rival packs because space is not an issue.

In the wild, a wolf pack consists of a monogamous pair and two to three generations of pups, which leave the pack upon reaching sexual maturity (around two years of age). Free-ranging dogs, especially those that live in a more urban environment, prefer a solitary life. They are opportunistic scavengers that eat bits of food here and there, they do not need to hunt in groups because they do not hunt large prey.

In wolves, all members of the pack are involved in one way or another in raising the pups and obtaining food, while dogs are not monogamous and only the mother is responsible for raising her pups. In certain (typically rural) areas where dogs have been found to roam in loose packs (‘membership’ is only temporary), a pregnant female will separate from the rest of the pack to give birth and care for her young. So you can see the obvious flaw in applying wolf behavior when studying dogs. Dogs and wolves are distantly related (despite being the same species) and therefore are not etiologically interchangeable. It’s not that these groups lack some semblance of structure, it’s that hierarchy is only important in some situations, as it is for us humans.

Since it’s been “common knowledge” for decades that wolves constantly fight for dominance, it’s easy to understand how so many dog ​​owners can mistake a simple lack of manners for an attempt to rise in rank, but the truth is that your dog he’s no more dominant when he’s running out the door than the person who just brushed past you to secure that last spot in the elevator you were about to get into. He’s no more of an alpha when he pounces on the food you dropped than the lady who snatched that sweater you just put down for a moment. These individuals are not trying to assert dominance, they are simply rude: they have put their needs before the needs of others. Dogs, like people, who are not taught to behave properly, cannot be expected to know how to do it.

Does this mean that your dog should not be taught limits or rules? Of course not. But adhering to domain theory is not the way to achieve this. It is heavily flawed and is used to justify the use of compulsion in dog training. A dog won’t comply with a request for three main reasons: he’s scared, he’s not sure what to do, or he’s just more motivated to do something else… Not because he’s dominant! Just like humans, dogs do better with a benevolent role model and leader, rather than a tyrant.

Before I go any further, I must acknowledge the large number of outraged trainers who are eager to point out that, all together now: “dogs are not furry humans!” Very true, but when it comes to the brain (especially the part relegated to hedonistic and need-satisfying behaviors), we are very similar, despite the obvious difference in appearance. Animals are naturally hedonistic; Thinking of yourself first is a primary survival tactic that has stuck with us and probably will never go away. I should point out that this doesn’t mean that altruism doesn’t exist in some species (one of which is the dog), but that does deviate from the scope of this article.

The dog that sits before being let out or waiting to be offered something does not show any type of subservience, it is just a ‘polite’ dog. Obviously, he has no real concept of social etiquette, but he has been taught that certain behaviors (sit, stay still, stop whining or barking…) are the only way to get what he wants (treats, affection, freedom…). ..).

It is a common misconception that dogs try to ‘take control of the walk’ by pulling on the leash, as only the leader walks in front. Dogs, even the best of friends, don’t walk together. Dogs are not pack animals, but even with wolves, status is not determined by where an individual walks, each animal minding its own business. It’s no different when they go for a walk with you: a pulling dog is just trying to mind his own business as best he can while he’s tied to a slow biped! Asking a dog to spend the duration of a walk wandering frustratingly slowly beside you is asking a lot; This isn’t to say it’s impossible, but it takes a lot of restraint not to chase the car, bird, or racer that has caught his eye, or investigate that pee, skittle, or corpse within a foot of his nose.

A big problem arises when we consider that as humans we have this expectation that our dogs can understand our spoken language. Most dogs go their entire lives not knowing what the word ‘no’ means, even if they hear it repeatedly throughout the day. First of all, dogs pick up tones more than individual words, which is why I can call my dog ​​”Jungle Breath” and he’ll run right at me. Second, telling a dog not to do something is usually unproductive because chances are he’s doing a lot of things at once, and you’ve just told him ‘no’. Not what, exactly? It is much more productive to tell him what he should be doing, he leaves no room for interpretation. This common source of miscommunication is what makes so many dog ​​owners believe their dog is dominant or just plain stupid. Aside from “no,” “quiet” is the number one word people seem to expect their dogs to know. The funny thing is that yelling will make most dogs bark even more! In case a sharp “quiet!” actually makes the dog quiet, the owner’s response is usually not to communicate that the cessation of the noise was what he was asking for (with the use of a reward), but to get back to what he was doing, which he tells the dog nothing. In fact, in some cases, even without realizing it, they will be rewarding the dog for barking: he barks and they pay attention to him, he is quiet and they ignore him.

A discussion of canine dominance wouldn’t be complete without an acknowledgment of the alpha role: the ridiculous practice of pinning your dog to the ground to establish yourself as its superior. Submissive dogs show their bellies all the time, just like wolves. If they do in nature, why can’t we exploit it and imitate it? First of all, it is not a gesture of submission, it is a gesture of appeasement. A dog that exposes his abdomen expresses complete harmlessness, is in a perceived tense situation, and is trying to make it very clear that he means no harm. Second, you will never see a dog flip another dog onto its back (except in cases of inappropriate play). This gesture is offered, not forced. Forcing a dog to the ground will do nothing for his relationship, at best he’ll scare her, at worst it can leave you with part of your face missing. The alpha role was perpetuated by the Monks of New Skete and immensely popularized by Cesar Millan, who have since claimed to regret both using and popularizing the practice.

Another time you may see a dog “belly up” is during play. Even during play, it is the dog on the ground that initiates the behavior, his body language will be engaged but tension free (no jerking or tail between his legs) and he is free to get up whenever he wants.

Knowing the reasons why dogs do what they do may seem trivial, but it can radically affect the outcome of your training. A dog that destroys the house out of separation anxiety probably won’t exclusively benefit from having something more interesting to do, whereas a dog that destroys out of boredom often will. Similarly, punishing a dog for being a dog will only lead to frustration and poor results. Trainers who demonize dogs by making misleading claims about hierarchy and dominance do so to justify inhumane training techniques, but thankfully! – that’s not the way many dog ​​owners choose to view their canine friends.

The most common criticism I hear regarding the use of non-confrontational training methods is that it will make the dog dependent on treats, refusing to do anything you ask without the certainty of a reward. Trainers who use compulsion claim that a dog should want to obey because the owner said so, not because he has treats. It’s very human to want an individual (dog, human, or other) to obey out of respect and love, rather than anticipation of payment, so I can’t say I blame them entirely for this mentality, but what I do I never understood was how these advocates of coercive methods could possibly monitor the double standards in their words: how does doing something solely for treats differ from doing something solely to avoid punishment? Personally, I would exclude such an egotistical notion from my training altogether, as it will only lead to frustration and resentment when you hit a bump in the training path. Remember: dogs need to learn manners, not mindless submission.

A dog that is taught the notion of punishment will likely only comply when the threat of said punishment is present. I’m not saying that this method is completely ineffective (although, for all dogs, I wish it were) but it is much more effective in the long run to teach a dog that if he obeys, the best in the world will happen to him, and a skilled handler will know exactly what that is for the dog in question.

With competence, calm and consistency you will never go wrong!

Good luck and happy training!