Kindness is Cool (and Free)

 
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If I had a penny for every time someone told me not to comfort my fearful dog when I first began working with him, I’d be…well, you know.

This ubiquitous advice is very popular, especially in certain dog training circles, and is often paired with a “don’t coddle/baby/spoil your dog.” Most recently I came across a post on my social media feed that listed “unearned affection” as the top reason for dog reactivity and aggression. 

The falsity of that claim aside, I was most struck by the notion that affection towards our dogs is a resource they should have to earn in the first place.

When I got educated about dog training and behavior and finally began to give my dog what he needed when he struggled the most, I was often met with unsolicited comments and advice from family, friends, and strangers alike. 

These concerned citizens were almost always worried that the food I was using with him, my reluctance to scold or punish him when he reacted out of fear, and my insistence on comforting him when he was stressed would lead to his “spoiling” or “coddling.” 

And I’m not the only one. Countless people I know have had similar experiences, especially when handling fearful or reactive dogs in public. Feeding a dog a treat, removing them from a stressful situation, or offering comfort when they’re scared seems to really trigger something in us. 

When did we—a supposedly dog-loving people—get to a place where treating another living being with kindness became cause for such derision?  

Perhaps this is a reflection of our culture, which is obsessed with power and control and always thirsting for punishment. Having spent more than a decade of my life educating people about power and control in interpersonal relationships, I’m all too familiar with this dynamic. 

And nowhere is it more obvious than in the world of dog training where literal dominance is encouraged and public platforms are given to individuals who kick, poke, choke, and pin dogs all in pursuit of “leadership.” Trainers exposed for hitting and hurting dogs in public get more than their fair share of defenders, because punishment, it seems, is a language we’re all fluent in. Punishment is popular.

What’s more, we—human animals with bigger brains and opposable thumbs—are terrified of giving up even an ounce of control when it comes to our relationships with dogs. We orchestrate arbitrary rules, make them earn every solitary thing including food and attention, and insist on a do-it-or-else methodology when it comes to training. 

A video circulating on Facebook last summer showing a dog voluntarily cooperating in an injection at the vet garnered such vitriol that one person suggested that dogs will soon get to decide whether or not to get spayed or neutered. Evidently giving an animal a tiny bit of choice and ability to cooperate in what happens to their body is just one slippery step away from an overhaul of world order.

I don’t know about you, but I’m still the one with the credit cards, keys to the car, and the deed to the house. I get to decide when my dog eats, where he sleeps, when and under what conditions he sees the outside world, if he gets to interact with people and other dogs, and ultimately whether he lives or dies. I’m not confused about who’s in charge and more control isn’t really my goal. 

My goal is to teach him what I want him to do in a variety of situations. My goal is to give him clear and consistent information about how to live in a human world that’s often so alien and challenging for dogs. My goal is to give him skills to meet his needs in a way that also works for everyone around him. My goal is to help him be successful. 

I can do all of this humanely, while treating him with kindness and compassion, allowing him to have greater control over his environment, and giving him choices. I can comfort him when he’s scared, I can give him food and affection just because, and I can listen to him when he tells me he’s uncomfortable and adjust accordingly. None of this is mutually exclusive with having a “well trained” dog. It’s time we stopped conflating training with dominance and compliance and kindness with permissiveness and weakness.

So here’s a humble proposition: being kind to your dog—comforting them when they’re scared, not putting them in situations they can’t handle, and giving them agency—isn’t coddling, babying, or spoiling them. It’s basic decency. And I think our world needs more of that, now more than ever.


Jenny Efimova