Bones Would Rain from the Sky: Deepening Our Relationships with Dogs (22 page)

has seen a lot of duty, mostly serving
as the righteous rationale in the ongoing war between man and
dog. Like the cross waved by the Crusaders as
justification for a staggering list of atrocities
committed on non-Christian peoples, the idea that
we are acting as alpha has served as justification
for a fair amount of unfairness and downright cruelty
to dogs. Lurking behind the battle cry of dog
training-"I can't let him get away with that!"-is
our fear that if we do let the dog get away with
x, y or z, we will lose our status as top
dogs.
Borrowed from the language of animal behavior
studies of social animals, alpha is used
to indicate the top-ranking animal in a particular
social group, or the top-ranking male and the
top-ranking female. To be sure, all social
animals have a hierarchy of power, popularly known as
"the pecking order," a term that originally arose from
Thorleif Schjelderupa
Ebbe's 1935 research in poultry behavior. This
model for describing a social hierarchy is much like
a ladder. At the very top rung is the
highest-ranking animal; the lowest rung is
occupied by the lowest-ranking member, and the other
members are assigned positions somewhere in- between, with
some animals below and some animals ranking above them.
The problem with this strict model is that while
easily understood, it's also vastly overly
simplified. Real life with real animals is not
rigidly linear, but a beautiful and fluid weave of
understanding and reciprocity among the various members;
authority is often not absolute but rather highly
situational. Discussing wild wolf behavior in
The Wolf, wolf expert David Mech offers his observation that
the government of the pack is neither autocratic nor
democratic. While at times the leader does
unquestionably guide the behavior of all pack
members, this is usually in a time of crisis or
conflict. At other times, all pack members have
influence on the behavior of all other pack
members, including the leader.
In trying to observe and understand how wolves interact
with wolves, and how dogs interact with dogs, we have
made a very serious mistake in modeling our own
behavior after that exhibited by

captive
animals. It should be noted that the behavior of
captive wolves, like the behavior of all
captive social species including humans, is
far more rigidly delineated than that of animals with
normal, natural life situations. Drawing
conclusions or guidance for our own behavior from the
behavior of captive wild animals is a very
poor springboard for understanding what is natural and
right to a species. And we forget that dogs are not
wolves, nor do they think that we are, and they're
fully aware that we're not dogs either. While we can
take a good deal of guidance from how dogs handle
issues of leadership with other dogs, the truth is that
we still have to find the balance unique to a dogs to human
relationship.
We have a vastly oversimplified and wildly
inaccurate set of rules of how to be a leader of
canines. Some of the "how to be a top dog" advice
found in the popular dog literature is purely
nonsensical, some is based on poorly understood
truth, and some is nothing short of strangely twisted
interpretations of what dogs really do with dogs. In
the end, our clumsy extrapolations result in a rather
autocratic approach to dogs, as
evidenced by the sad reality that there's a whole lot
of nevers involved. For example, "Never let your dog go
ahead of you through doorways or on stairways."
I'm a bit confused on how to apply this
consistently. Just how you get a dog into the car while
following this rule is a mystery to are you supposed
to get in first and then invite the dog to join you?
"Never let your dog eat before you do." This advice
might work well when you and your dog are sharing a deer
carcass. After all, wouldn't you rather have the really
choice bits for yourself? I mean, if you let the dog
go first, he'll eat all the delicious intestinal
contents before you get a shot at them. I usually feed
my dogs before I eat because it seems kinder and because
I don't need to make them drool and watch me
eat in order to provide them with effective
leadership. If a person needed to deny me a shot
at the donuts in order to prove how powerful they
were, chances are good there were some other issues they
needed to work out with me and with their own notions of what
constitutes effective leadership. If we actually
look to wild wolf behavior for some clues on how
best to handle the "Who eats first?" question, we learn that

if there's plenty to be had [as there might
be with a moose carcass], all get to eat with no
rank pulled by anyone. If there are young puppies,
they often get first dibs, with Mom and other pack
members literally regurgitating a hot meal for the
kids. If pickings are slim, whoever can get
hold of and keep the food is the winner; obviously,
higher-ranking animals win this particular hand more often
than lower-ranking members. For dogs whose owners
insist on eating before their canine pals do, I
wonder if some dim genetic memory stirs up a
bit of anxiety that there's not much available in the
pantry? Do puppies who are not fed first wonder
if they've landed in a dysfunctional pack that
doesn't understand the importance of feeding the kids
first?
The list goes on and on: Never let your dog
sleep in your bed or get up on the furniture.
Never let your dog have free access to toys or
bones. Never pet your dog when he asks you to.
Never go over to your dog to give him attention; make
him come to you. (strange advice this, particularly
since a direct approach to another animal is a
high status maneuver.) And one of my
favorites-take your dog's "kills" away from
him. Huh? In fact, I understand this one
pretty well. Banni once tried to sneak through the
door with a possum he'd caught. Head down, he
positioned himself in the middle of the whole gang of dogs waiting
to get in, but I noticed something odd about him, which
turned out to be a possum in his jaws. So I
took his kill away from him. Actually, I just
told him to drop it, which was a good thing since it was
doing what possums do- just playing dead. Banni
dropped it, and when I told him, "Let's go,"
he picked it up again, and when I said, "Drop it"
he did; and when I told him, "Let's go," he
picked it up again. We went around like this for a while,
which just goes to show it is not easy to take a dog's
kill (even a live one) away from him unless you
remember to add "Leave it" between "Drop it" and
"Let's go." I offer this helpful hint for those who
feel the need, as I did, to discourage dogs from
bringing home their own pets or eating their kills on
the couch.
All of the simplistic advice never

contains the implied but unspoken
phrase of dire warning "or your dog will become
alpha." This is as silly as saying if you let children
run and play, you will never have control over them. The
truth is that if you don't have control over the children in
the first place, then when they do run and play and get
terribly excited, you won't be able to control them in
that situation. If you can't tell your dog to get off
the furniture or out of your bed, it's not because a
comfortable couch has eroded the dog's respect for you.
Particular actions in and of themselves are not usually the
problem when it comes to leadership issues. The lack
of respect we have earned from our dogs is the
problem. Our failure to provide appropriate
leadership is to blame, not the comfy chairs. No
matter how many of them you may have.
People love to substitute rules and formulas for
understanding of complex issues. I don't know why, and
I doubt that dogs have a clue either. I suspect
it's because rules make complex issues seem
easier to understand. In the initial stages of learning
anything, having some basic rules helps us feel
less lost and gives our rudderless flailings something
akin to direction. Within the context of a loving
relationship, I find such rules offensive, and
deadening to all involved. One tip-off that a
relationship has not achieved a high degree of
intimacy is the need for strictly adhered to rules.
Reliance upon rules reveals our desire for quick,
easy fixes and our unwillingness to do the work necessary
to gain the understanding of our dogs and the respect
from
our dogs that makes such rules unnecessary. Learning
to become fluent in Dog has to extend past mere
A theoretical understanding into a shift in our behavior so
that we are truly communicating in ways that make
sense to the dog.
When two living beings are involved, a soulful
approach requires, perhaps even demands, that we
remain open and attentive to the reality of what is
happening dynamically between the two; anything less is
life lived by rote, not by feel. In the long run,
the very beauty that complexity makes possible is denied
and made unavailable within the confines of rules; the
dynamic quality of a connection bound only
by mutual agreement and understanding, not by rules, is
lost. Following a list of rules, our hearts are

not free to dance in response to another-we
are only dully plodding along in an imitation
waltz. We cannot help but be disappointed with what
rules create within a relationship: a static
unsatisfying version of the real thing that neither broadens
nor warms our soul.

leadership Is action
One of the tests of leadership is the ability
to recognize a problem before it becomes an
emergency.
arnold glasgow
I'VE YET TO MEET ANYONE WHO
SAID, "I hoped this dog would take over my
household and he has. Praise be!" Instead,
there's been a steady parade of bewildered clients
who find themselves unable to control the dog they love very
much, who are frustrated by the dog's behavior and
unhappily aware that something has gone quite wrong.
Without ever intending to, and simply because they don't
understand the dog's perspective on leadership, owners
have abdicated. In the absence of clear, consistent
leadership, dogs do what dogs do-the best they can and
in a way that suits them.
In every interaction with their family and with other dogs and people
they meet, dogs are getting answers to their
questions about who's really in charge. And they're taking
very, very good notes. Dogs are always just being who they
are-dogs and nothing else-and if they fail
to respectstobeystcooperate, chances are good that they
are reacting to a perceived void. Remember just how
honest dogs are? Well, here's where that honesty may
come back to bite us in the butt-sometimes, quite
literally! The respect dogs accord us is
precisely and exactly the respect we have earned.
According to their
scorecard-according to the expectations every canine brings to a
social interaction.
On casual examination, having a dog who
mistakenly believes he's in charge of his own little
fiefdom seems relatively harmless. So what
if the dog is "spoiled" or out of control? (the
smaller the dog, the less likely anyone is to be
concerned about a dog's lack of
respect for people; a "spoiled" dog with paws the
size of dinner plates tends to get attention.) But
having created a four-legged Napoleon is not

merely a matter of annoying visiting
guests. While the concept of a dog believing that he
is the emperor of his own little empire may seem
amusing, this kind of confusion can be very dangerous.
There's a very serious problem with a dog who believes
he is the highest-status animal in his family.
According to proper canine protocol, the dog who
believes that he has the right to set the rules for how
others will behave is also entitled to enforce those
rules. This can put us in direct conflict with our
dogs and create some very ugly situations where both
parties are feeling righteously entitled to their
behavior. If we act in what he considers
unacceptable ways, he'll let us know in purely
canine fashion, dealing with us precisely as he would
deal with a bratty pup. Displeased, a dog will not
write a nasty letter or call you up to complain; he
will, however, growl, snap, snarl or bite. I've
worked with countless dogs who were led to believe that they
ruled the world or at least their small corner of it and
then were labeled "aggressive" by their angry, scared
and bewildered owners. Some of these dogs ended up
dead, victims of the lack of understanding from the people who
claimed to love them yet did not set rules for their
behavior.
Generally speaking, our dogs do not want
to be in conflict with us, though they often find themselves in
that unhappy position. This is usually not because dogs
desire to thwart us, thumb their noses at us or
deliberately defy us, though they are capable of
doing all three. They are usually acting in good
faith, and though we may not like it, are giving us
accurate feedback on our leadership and the degree
of training and socialization they have received. If we
lead the dog to believe he's the one in charge, he
is.
Though many training approaches emphasize
"deranking" the dog or taking him down a few
pegs socially speaking, the truth is this: The
dog does not need to be "deranked" so much as the
people need to learn to act like people worth listening to. The
emphasis is on the wrong end of the leash; the
failure rests with the two-leggeds, not the dogs, though
it is certainly easier to blame the dog than
accept the responsibility for our behavior.
Insubordination is very often a charge leveled at
inferiors

by incompetent leaders. When we take the
responsibility to shift our own behavior so that we
become people that dogs want to be withand respect, dogs
act accordingly. On a daily basis, dogs remind
us of the truth that to get respect, you have to act in
ways that deserve respect.
the beige rug syndrome
Try this sometime: Rush into a crowded room and
announce that no one, and you mean no one, is to touch
the jellied calves' brains on the kitchen counter.
(humans only-dogs will be dashing off to check it
out.) What you'll get is happy agreement that yes
indeed, the calves' brains are safe. Tell the
same crowd that there are thousand-dollar bills, the
keys to new cars and also a lot of Belgian
chocolate all stacked knee- deep in the kitchen,
and you may find they require a bit more convincing
to leave it all untouched. Why? Because cash and cars and
chocolate probably matter to them, and jellied
calves' brains probably do not.
Tell a dog to sit in the middle of the kitchen on a
quiet afternoon, and you'll most likely get compliance.
Ask that same dog to sit while cats dash past
or other dogs are playing or when there's a knock
at the door, and you may find it's quite a
different story. If we cannot control the dog in
situations of great importance to him, we may find
ourselves in deep trouble when the food-crazy dog
mugs the neighbor's toddler for a graham cracker
or chases a bicyclist or attacks a
visitor. Despite Buddy's love of food,
we need to be able to tell the dog to leave the
toddler's snack alone. No matter how thrilling
the chase may be, Giselle needs to watch
quietly (though perhaps with wagging tail and a gleam in
her eye) as the Tour de France zooms past. And
regardless of what Fluffy thinks of Uncle
Dominick's aftershave, the dog needs to take his
cues as to who is and is not a welcome guest from you.
The more important something is to the dog, the more
important it may be that we have the dog's
respect, that we have earned the right to control the dog's
behavior or impulses. If something is
important to the dog, he's going to be willing
to push for it; it's easy to control anyone's
behavior if they don't care about something.
Unfortunately, we sometimes respond to and
attempt to direct only the behaviors that infringe on what
we consider important or just important at that
moment. We might ignore a dog who jumps on
us when we are wearing old jeans and a T-shirt, but
suddenly consider that behavior worthy of our full
attention if we are wearing an expensive suit.
We forget that the dog is carefully taking notes
on our response to what he
considers important as well as noting what
appears (based on our behavior) to be
important to us. This can lead to some interesting
situations. Dog trainers the world over are familiar
with (although sometimes helpless in the face of] the
Beige Rug Syndrome.
Those dog owners suffering from this particular syndrome
inevitably have
(a) an expensive, and usually fairly new, beige