"The world is not force free..."

"...we must use aversives and consequences in our training to raise resilient dogs."

We have all heard this sentiment or something akin to it. I have very strong feelings about this. I am going to get a little personal and vulnerable with the hope that it resonates and changes at least one heart or mind.

When I was a small child, my father used to take great pleasure in making me scared. If I was walking close to the edge of a pool, or a road, or a drop, he would push me and then grab my arm and pull me back. Then he would laugh. If I cried, he would get annoyed and tell me I needed to learn to take a joke. When my brother was a toddler and I was in pre-school, my mother used to ask my father to take me to work sometimes during school holidays. It was boring as heck. Sometimes I would have to wait in hot cars on my own for hours while he saw clients, or I would be given pens and paper to draw with in his office. Sometimes, my father would find a huge, upright box and put me in it and close me in a room, alone. He would tell me to be quiet because I wasn’t supposed to be there, and he would get into trouble with his boss if I made a sound. I had to find a way out. That was the “game”. The boxes were very big. I never succeeded in getting out, so I would just have to wait. When he finally pulled me out the box, he would laugh and laugh. I wet my pants once because I couldn’t hold my bladder long enough. It was especially funny the day I wet my pants. While in the box I felt scared and anxious, and when I was pulled out, I felt foolish and embarrassed.

---

"...dogs need people and a place where they feel 100% safe. We need to be those people, and our homes need to be those places."

---

Things at the office got better when my little brother started coming too. I had company in the box, and I had someone to play with. My brother actually seemed to enjoy being put in there. I don't know if it was my imagination, but it seemed as if we weren't left in the box as long when my brother was there. But one day my father decided to play a different game. He worked in a multi-story office block in the city. He told us that we were going to go to the corner shop for a treat. We were so excited. Treats weren’t something we often had. He walked us from his office to the elevator. As the elevator doors opened, he walked in with us. He pushed all the buttons in the elevator and as the doors closed, he slipped out. My brother was 3 yrs old, and I was 5 yrs old. I had never been so frightened in my life. We rode the elevator to every floor. Adults got in and out and asked if we needed help. I was too afraid to ask for help. This was in South Africa in the 80s, and stranger danger was ingrained in us. I just shook my head and said my dad worked here and we were going to his office. I thought asking for help would get me into trouble. I got into trouble a LOT. I never meant to do anything naughty, so my strategy for staying out of trouble was to do nothing and to say nothing. Eventually all the lights on the buttons were gone and we were in a stationary elevator. We didn’t know which floor our father’s office was on, and we couldn’t reach the elevator buttons. After thinking about what to do, I picked up my brother and told him to push as many buttons as he could reach. When we stopped on a floor, I would look out the doors to see if I recognised anything. Eventually, I recognized the floor, and we got off. When we walked into the office, my father (you guessed it) laughed and laughed. We never got our treat. That day made me afraid of elevators, especially if I was going on one with my father. I did not trust him, and I knew he wasn’t someone who would keep me safe. He was someone who would purposefully put me in situations that were scary, and he took pleasure from it. I learned to be vigilant. I learned that I was never safe, and I developed a sever anxiety disorder.

Like children, dogs need people and a place where they feel 100% safe. We need to be those people, and our homes need to be those places. Yes, the world is full of aversives and adversity, but social support and security are what helps them deal with the threats and bad experiences. Our homes need to provide a space where they can decompress.

My baseline IS anxiety. It is where I live. Even in my home, which is a safe place, around safe people. When I work with anxious, reactive dogs, I see myself in them. Dogs don’t need discipline. They need our love, support, and protection. Nothing bad should every intentionally come from us. Ever.