The Gift of "Bad" Behavior

As I rushed out the door this morning to run an errand, I was ambushed by my Australian Cattle Dog, Nash. His ear-piercing bark became more incessant with every forward step I took, until he finally lunged to bite and hold onto the hem of my sweatshirt.

My husband immediately condemned what he had just witnessed by stating, “You need to teach that dog to behave”.

"You need to teach that dog to behave".

I suspect that most people would agree with my husband. Nash had exhibited “bad” behavior, and traditionally in the dog training industry, “bad” behavior should be terminated and/or replaced with “good” behavior. It has become accepted in our society that humans have the right, and even an obligation, to control the behavior of our dogs.

But can we also agree that Nash was having his own emotional experience? Perhaps frustration that I wasn’t attending to his social needs? Or anxiety about being left behind? Or maybe his unfulfilled instinct to herd was aroused, and he was simply trying to control my movement? Irregardless, I think it would be fair to say that he was actively expressing some feelings.

If we can accept that Nash was trying to tell me something through his behavior, let’s consider for a moment what tools he has to communicate his emotions, especially the “negative” ones. Without the ability to use words, what behaviors might a dog display to communicate feelings of frustration, for example? And if those behaviors present as barking, biting, destruction, jumping up, or digging, how likely are we to investigate the “why” behind the behavior before we take steps to stop it?

When human infants cry, we accept that it is our responsibility to determine if they are hungry, gassy, or need a diaper change. However, when our dogs use their non-verbal means to communicate, we often completely bypass what their needs might be, and seek ways to shut down their behavior.

Sure, I could train Nash to do something like “go to his place” when I come and go. And once I trained and reinforced it, he might never again behave the way he did this morning. But if I silence Nash by enforcing “good” behavior, how would I know when he has something to say?

But if I silence Nash by enforcing "good" behavior, how would I know when he has something to say?

Instead of fixating on correcting Nash’s behavior, I also have the option to make changes to my own. The next time I have an errand to run, I could do a better job of setting him up for success. Maybe get him settled with a bully stick, or allow enough time for a game of fetch or tug. And I could certainly enhance his overall wellbeing by increasing his social, physical, and mental enrichment.

Isn’t it quite possible that we could make the greatest positive impact on our dogs' behavior by changing OUR own behavior and mindsets?

I am grateful that Nash feels empowered and safe enough to express when his needs aren’t being met. I consider it a gift when he provides me with an opportunity to listen, to learn and to ultimately become a more empathetic mom, guardian, trainer, and human.

Thank you, Nash, for telling me how you REALLY feel.

Souly Dog, December 2022