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Plays Well with Others

With practice, even kamikaze dogs can learn some manners

By Patricia B. McConnell, PhD

“Oh, he’s just so friendly, isn’t he?!” Larry, the dog in question, was careening around the off-leash park, throwing himself onto every dog within a hundred yards. Size and age were irrelevant—Mastiffs and Maltese alike were on the receiving end of frontal assaults, mounting and body slams. Eventually, our über-“friendly” dog launched himself onto a Border Collie/Labrador-cross who took umbrage, and responded with teeth flashing. No doubt the guardians of the other beleaguered dogs said a silent “thank you!” and—if I may be so bold as to speculate about the mental state of another species—so did the dogs.

Larry’s guardian was my client, and after I convinced her to put him back on-leash before things got more dramatic, she poured out her frustrations to me. “I just don’t understand why dogs are so mean to Larry. All he wants to do is play.” This was not a foolish woman; she was a perfectly nice, intelligent person who wanted the best for her dog. She’d never had a dog before, and like a lot of first-timers, she didn’t know that, just like children on a playground, a dog can play politely, like a social nerd or like a bully.

Well-trained vs. Well-behaved

It’s one thing to have a dog who is well-trained—who happily sits on cue and keeps his muddy paws off of Aunt Polly. It’s another thing to have a dog who is well-behaved around other dogs—who is able to “play well with others,” even when the “others” have four paws and furry faces and grab their playmates with their mouths instead of their hands.

A dog may be impolite around other dogs for a variety of reasons. Perhaps he didn’t get enough exposure to well-socialized dogs during his own sensitive socialization period. Perhaps the dogs with whom he grew up never explained, in a doggy kind of way, that “no, you mustn’t leap onto my head when I’m sound asleep.” Some dogs are nervous around other dogs, and express it much like anxious people at a party, who, rather than quietly listening from the sidelines, can’t stop talking and end up dominating the conversation. Other dogs might be “alpha-wannabees,” status-seeking but full of angst—the kind who has to “get you before you get me.” Whatever the cause, what’s most important is to recognize rude play when you see it, and either protect your dog from it before he’s forced to protect himself, or, if it’s your own dog, teach him how to play politely.

Manners 101

First things first: polite play begins with a polite greeting. Well-mannered dogs approach one another at a relaxed pace, from the side rather than head-on. A young puppy may charge full-bore at another dog and slam into her like a test car hitting a cement wall, but by the time that puppy is about six months old, he should be able to approach with a certain amount of discretion. Some pups come hard-wired with this ability, while more exuberant types are usually instructed by their elders to mind their manners. A quiet growl here, a gentle nip there, and most young dogs learn early on that there are boundaries to social relationships.

However, some dogs are oblivious to the warnings of others, don’t spend enough time with older dogs, or grow up in a household where a long-suffering older dog lets him do anything he wants. Just as we can spoil young children by indulging their every wish, amicable older dogs can spoil young puppies by allowing them to think that anything goes. I wouldn’t worry too much if older dogs gave a nine-week-old youngster “puppy privileges,” but I would be concerned if a six-month old dog was allowed to leap onto another dog’s head with abandon (and with no comment from the victim) outside of an established play session.

If this is happening in your household, you’d be wise to help your pup learn how to greet other dogs politely. Granted, it’s not the easiest project in dog training, since we’re talking about behavior between two dogs, not an interaction between you and your dog. However, it can be done, honest.

I’ve had the most success with teaching dogs a reliable “watch” signal, in which the dog learns to stop what he’s doing and turn to look at your face. Other cues—“sit,” perhaps, or “lie down”—can work just as well—anything that slows the dog down and distracts him from his uninhibited charge. Practice this first with him alone, and then enlist an even-tempered furry volunteer or two to extend the training. While the other dog is a good distance away, ask for a “watch” (or your cue of choice). When he responds, give him a tasty treat and then release him to go play with his friend. Eventually, you can ask him to watch (or sit) every five steps or so, so that he’s alternating his attention between you and the other dog. The essential thing is that you ask him to do something that checks his uninhibited dash toward the other dog. With practice and age, most dogs can develop a relatively refined meet-and-greet style.

Plan A (and B)

Ah, but what if your dog is the victim rather than the perpetrator? You’re not helpless here. Even though your dog isn’t the problem, the solution lies in teaching her a new trick, an “emergency sit/stay.” When a dog comes barreling toward the two of you, ask her to sit/stay, and then put yourself between her and the oncoming dog. As the dog races toward you (and your ever-so-polite dog maintains her sit/stay behind you), concentrate on changing that dog’s behavior.

People often don’t believe me when I suggest that they try this, but an impressive number of dogs have been slowed, if not stopped, by a person flinging her arm up in the universal sit signal, striding two steps forward and saying “SIT” in a confident voice. If that doesn’t work, go to Plan B (which I learned from Trish King at the Marin Humane Society—thank you thank you, Trish!): Fling a handful of treats into the dog’s face. While the other dog is snarfing through the grass gobbling up the treats, release your dog and move on, leaving someone else to deal with the kamikaze canine once he’s found all the snacks.

Like all training, this only works if you practice it exactly the way you want to use it. That means that your dog needs to learn to sit instantly wherever she is when you issue the cue, rather than coming around to face you (as most dogs are taught); to stay even when you walk a few paces away; and to hold that sit/stay while you have a conversation with another dog. Clients often are laughing out loud as I describe this, because it seems impossible to achieve. Who could blame them? However, when they work on it step-by-step, using lots of positive reinforcement and gradually increasing the level of distraction, they are often shocked at how much they can expect from their dog. Of course, if you try to implement this and another dog goes around you and races toward your dog, be sure to release her—the last thing you want is for her to be stuck on a sit/stay when the playground doofus is about to slam into her.

Recognizing Rude Play

All the above can help with impolite greetings, but what about dogs who greet one another appropriately enough but then become rude during a play session? Rude play is characterized by lots of body slamming that the other dogs don’t seem to enjoy, obsessive mounting attempts initiated by only one of the players, or chase games that seem to be started in order to give one dog an excuse to bite the legs of another.

Because play sessions can be so exuberant, and can include mutually enjoyable growling and sham biting, it can be difficult at first to distinguish rude play from more benevolent interactions. Your best teachers are dogs themselves. Does your dog always end up on top in a play session? Do the vocalizations you hear escalate into low-pitched, serious growls from either dog? Do other dogs try to avoid her? Does your dog love to play with lots of different types of dogs, but starts looking panicky when one particular dog rolls her over? Do the participants appear to be spiraling toward emotional overload?

You’ll find that your ability to answer these questions will improve dramatically with practice and with the information gained from books and videos. If you’re unsure about what’s going on, find a trusted and knowledgeable trainer or behaviorist to objectively watch your dog play with others. Another good idea is to go to a class specifically designed to teach people how to train their dogs to come when called away from a vigorous play session. This is a handy skill for all of us to have in our pockets, and if you take your dog out to the dog park, I’d say it’s invaluable.

The basics are simple. Teach your dog the “name game” by reinforcing her every time she looks at you when you say her name. Start with no distractions and then gradually increase the distraction level while asking her to pay attention. Playing with other dogs is the ultimate distraction, so be thoughtful about setting up situations in which you can work on this; you don’t want your dog to be reinforced for ignoring you. It helps greatly if you can work on this as a group—each person takes a turn calling his or her dog, and if one chooses not to respond, everyone leashes up their dog and the play session stops.

There are several dog training businesses around the country that provide this type of instruction (including my own). If your local training group doesn’t, you might suggest that they think about it—we’ve found it to be an invaluable way to help people have a good time at the dog park, rather than, uh … not.

Patricia B. McConnell, PhD, is an animal behaviorist and ethologist, and an adjunct associate professor in zoology at the university of Wisconsin, Madison. Co-host of Wisconsin Public Radio’s “Calling All Pets,” she is also the author of the recently released For the Love of a Dog: Understanding Emotion in You and Your Best Friend.

This column first appeared in The Bark, Issue 36, May/June 2006

Visit Patricia McConnell online.

This is the second of three archived columns, see the first or third for more.