Scott Linden Outdoors

Sometimes, a light touch is more persuasive than a heavy hand

To a dog, actions speak louder than words. Move slower, and you literally demonstrate to your dog that things are not as exciting (or distracting) as they seem. I’m lucky in that I watch myself on TV a lot (someone has to pump up the Nielsen ratings). I learned to be a teacher the same way – with video. It is a cruel but fair instructor, the small screen.

But you don’t need a camera crew to reflect on your actions and the messages they convey. Just think before you act, adjust your pace, the magnitude of your movements, and your dog will get the message. He does now, but it’s often to your detriment and you might not even know it.

When words are required, a whisper is often better than a growl. It certainly brings down the adrenaline levels, calming the situation. Like people, dogs will often pay closer attention to you if you make it hard for them to hear what you’re saying. Drop the volume level and you might be pleasantly surprised at the results.

Even physical praise has degrees. Scratching my old guy’s neck following a quiet “here” command was often just the right amount of feedback. It’s a slow, relaxing touch, light and low-key. He in turn, would down, expecting nothing but a chance to be near me as his reward for a small job well done – he showed up. A vigorous, two-hand rib tickle implies something else entirely, higher energy and more excitement. It might be just the ticket to jet-propel a long retrieve by Manny, still in his prime … to get him going or as a well-earned reward.

A dog that forges ahead when walking at heel is often “corrected” with a violent jerk. He, in turn, pulls harder. A pup told “whoa” is held still by a taut check cord pulling on his neck. Relaxing that tension might actually put him more at ease and willing to follow the original direction.

Manny simply cannot stand still when he first gets on the training table. I used to yank on his collar, yelling “whoa” at increasingly high volume. Now I speak calmly, slowly, sometimes from a sitting position, stroking his back until he settles – faster than he ever did when I engaged him in a battle of canine (half)wits.