I had occasion today to think about how we working LGD owners view dominance in our dogs. Before we get into any further conversations about training, I think we should take a closer look at what dominance is and, perhaps more importantly, what it isn’t.
While it is seldom advisable to get all of your handling and training advice from social media threads, they can be very helpful to see the different ways that people operate with their dogs. The other side of that, of course, is that it can be difficult for people who are truly struggling to gain the perspective they need, due to the extreme distance of the advice being given. If there is one thing I’ve learned solidly, it’s that reports of behavior are not reliable enough to make firm decisions about the motivations behind said behavior. It’s also true that some people will always see a nail because all they have is a hammer and that some are looking through a lens of ethical or moral views on dogs, no matter how impractical or inappropriate that lens may be for the situation at hand.
What I want to talk about in this post specifically is how much a consideration of dominance should factor into the decisions we make regarding our working LGDs, not to debate whether dominance exists (yes, it does) or whether we should acknowledge it (yes, we should, as it can be exacerbated or misinterpreted leading to serious complications) .
What is dominance? Many people throw out the word “Alpha” or refer to Cesar Milan’s techniques when asked this question. They talk about “alpha rolling” or “body rolling”, using physical intimidation routinely and never allowing your dog to be above you in stature, never allowing him to put his mouth on you- essentially encouraging a laundry list of forceful methods done routinely with every dog to ensure that they never gain the “upper hand” in the relationship. I don’t know about you, but I cannot imagine that type of approach garnering anything other than mistrust in both humans or dogs, given how complex and nuanced our collective social behavior is. Approaching dogs in this way is akin to over emphasis on one conversation, on one subject in relationship. Imagine if you wanted to tell someone that you love them, or that you’re hungry – or even that you have to go to the bathroom and all they ever said in return was “Get in line, don’t be dominant with me!”. Imagine if you wanted to play or communicate that you are insecure about a situation, but all you were continually told was “Stop trying to control me!!!”. Not only would it be confusing and frustrating for you, but you’d quickly learn that no one was listening to you in this particular relationship and most likely tune out. Further, if they continually insisted that you grovel before them, or tolerate harsh manhandling, you may even lash out. Security and safety in this relationship would feel almost non existent, and it could be argued that the relationship was abusive or at least neglectful. If we don’t have a working understanding of the role that dominance plays in our relationships, of how it can be used properly and fairly (as we seem to understand instinctively with our fellow humans, for instance), we will continue to misapply and misinterpret it… or just refuse to have the conversation at all.
Living socially demands a passable skill with appropriate social language. This is why, most often, you see like animals living with like. They understand how to communicate with each other and it allows them to live peacefully enough together to ensure their survival. It’s how we came to live with canids in the first place – we were able to communicate well enough to come together for mutual benefit. Had we had dominance as an overriding concern, or they had that as their only concern, we would not currently have hundreds of years of beneficial relationship behind us now. It’s that simple. The animals most concerned about dominance live mainly alone (apart from offspring at times); they lead much more isolated lives.
Dogs are, for the most part, very socially flexible. We humans generally are as well. We, dogs and humans, adapt well to varying groupings, despite our personal proclivities. Animals with strict dominance hierarchies do this less well – birds are often put up as good examples of beings who live best with such a rigid construct. They have been the focus of a lot of the research on the subject of dominance for this reason. Their social default is to have the conversation to determine who is in charge first and often. They do not tolerate weakness, nor do they tolerate usurpers. There are those who are submissive and stick to that, and there are others who constantly challenge for control, or who are quick to sense an opportunity and take it. Birds generally live in a “cut throat” world with a solid ladder of control. This is not to say that they can’t live peaceably, but they are generally less adaptable to change. The level of aggression displayed and the ability to be “tough” are more informative of eventual status than the body mass or size of the bird. In other words, it’s the size of the fight in the bird as opposed to the size of the bird in the fight that determines which rung on the ladder they will occupy.
Dogs, in general, are much more willing to give and take than birds – many dogs routinely offer submission to any human they meet. We have selected for this trait in many of our companion dogs, and indeed in many of the dogs we work with as well. Selection for routine submission with at least their handlers is commonplace. The much maligned pitbull is a good example of this – historically selected to be aggressive with other dogs but never with their people. Simply put, this was for a practical reason: in order to pull an aggressive dog out of a fight or to train a dog selected for willingness to trip into aggression, you’d have to ensure they felt that hurting humans was forbidden. Other dog breeds have been selected similarly, such as the herding types or even more dramatically, the gun dogs.
Essentially, over the course of our history living and working with most dogs, we’ve purposefully or otherwise selected against a willingness or desire to challenge our status as leader. We found that since we as humans have the longer view and hold the construct of what we want to accomplish, it makes much more sense to have dogs who easily agree to work with us, no matter what we ask. While this has been done with LGDs to varying extent (the more stranger friendly types to more extent than the others), I do not believe that LGDs operate in the same way that most dogs do. They are not complete outliers, (sharing this niche with the most serious protection and spitz dogs, for instance) but as we’ve discussed before, they do fill a unique working role and have had their maternal and aggressive tendencies exaggerated in order to be successful at it. This lends them to behave more like a primitive social canid, thriving in familial groupings, as well as with a more rigid social hierarchy than most. It is often noted that the working LGD learns best by watching and doing, is sensitive to subtle nuanced body communication and is quite often ahead of other dogs or even humans in terms of knowing what is going to happen next in interaction. All of this lends itself to a highly sensitive dog who needs a solid foundation to operate from.
It is my firm belief that not only are LGDs concrete thinkers in general (like many herding dogs for instance), but they also appreciate knowing where they stand in relationship at all times. Uncertainty does not lend itself to security. You’ll seldom see two working LGDs meet without establishing right away who is the leader and the follower. This doesn’t always play out in the same way with humans, but the conversation is very similar. Knowing who is in charge doesn’t need to be, and often isn’t the result of a physical altercation, but it needs to be established just the same. It may have to be revisited as dynamics of the relationship change (a maturing pup, for instance), but once established it remains static and doesn’t need to be proven over and over in every interaction. Our LGDs are less interested in challenging the leadership position with us humans than they are with their canine counterparts, but they are hard wired to step into the gap if they find that we aren’t willing or able to lead. If we are unconfident, unreliable, distant or otherwise irrelevant and untrustworthy, they will step into the void. They will also do so if we are under threat or incapacitated, something we generally find a positive trait.
Working LGDs are warriors. They go forward into battle when other dogs would run and hide. They do the opposite of what comes naturally to most animals; they give up self preservation to put themselves in harm’s way for the benefit of others. There is little time for ongoing negotiation when you’re in protection mode 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. This is one of the reasons why working LGDs always need to know where they stand, who they can trust and who will have their back… or equally who they are expected to provide back up for. Regardless of which training methods are chosen, earning the trust of your working LGD(s) and ensuring that they are comfortable in their social interactions with both humans and each other ought to be highest on your list of priorities. A confident and secure dog does the best work, and in the end, we can agree that we all need dogs who work to the best of their abilities. The lives of their charges depend on it.