Your Dog Isn’t Broken—But Your Ideas Regarding Good Dog Training Might Be
(and yeah, that might sting a little)
You’re standing in your backyard—treats in one hand, leash in the other, heart in your throat. Your dog just blew you off again. Ran across the grass like the wind was whispering secrets you couldn’t hear. And you’re standing there like a prop in a comedy skit, only you’re not laughing. You’re kind of mad. But also, weirdly, you want to cry?
It’s okay. I’ve been there. Like, actually-there—barefoot, in a bathrobe, at 6 a.m., yelling “COME!” at a dog who looked me dead in the eyes and sprinted in the opposite direction. (He found a half-eaten pizza crust. I didn’t stand a chance.)
The truth is, dog training is often more about us than the dog. More about our missteps, our blind spots, our Very Good Intentions™ gone sideways.
But let’s talk about that, without the sugar coating.
1. “Consistency” That Actually Becomes a Straitjacket
So, people say “Be consistent,” right? Over and over. Like a mantra passed down from on high. But no one really explains what that means. So you try, Maybe too hard. You say “sit” the exact same way, at the same time, with the same hand signal, expecting your dog to be this little obedient algorithm. But one day? Boom. Dog doesn’t sit. Not even close. He scratches his ear and wanders off like your voice is static.
And you panic. Or double-down. Or both. You think, He’s defying me. (Spoiler: he’s not.)
Here’s the rub. Consistency matters, yes. But dogs aren’t spreadsheets. They’re living, emotional, distracted-by-butterflies creatures. Life gets noisy. Your dog isn’t failing you. He’s feeling something else.
Like that guy Jake, from this training group I joined online last summer. He was super strict with his border collie, Mila. Never let her skip a command. Not once. But when fireworks went off on July 4th? She bolted mid-session. He tried to force her into a down-stay. She bit him. First time ever. Because fear? Fear doesn’t speak the same language as training cues.
So instead, try flexing. Adjust the plan. Whisper instead of shout. Sit with your dog instead of correcting her. Imagine if someone expected you to recite your tax ID number while dangling off a rollercoaster. Yeah, that.
A couple of good dog training posts from the collection on our site that might interest you. First one is about dog training clickers and the second is a bit more specialised, being about gun dog training collars.
2. Bribery Masquerading as Good Dog Training
Treats. Delicious, magical currency. Bacon-flavored dopamine bombs. Your dog will do calculus for one.
But…there’s a dark side. You overuse them. You become a vending machine. Your dog starts doing tricks like a circus act, only if you’ve got snacks on hand. And when you don’t? You get that confused look, the “what’s in it for me?” stare.
Let me say it plainly: Treats are a means, not the message.
My buddy Sam trained his pit mix, Nala, with lamb jerky. Worked like a dream in his kitchen. But the moment they hit the dog park? Gone. Nala took off like she had an appointment elsewhere. The treats? Useless.
The fix isn’t no-treats. It’s smarter treats. Fade them out gradually. Randomize the reward. Pair them with praise, or play. Vary the paychecks like a weird little doggy slot machine. That’s how Vegas makes money. Uncertainty keeps you hooked.
Also, side note: peanut butter on a spoon can solve almost any problem. Not scientifically verified, just personally tested.
3. Training Behavior Without Understanding Emotion
I hate how often this gets overlooked. It’s maddening. You see a dog bark or growl and everyone rushes to fix it. As if you can slap duct tape over feelings.
Newsflash: You can’t teach over trauma.
Dogs don’t disobey because they’re “bad.” Sometimes, they’re just scared out of their minds. That’s not a training issue. It’s a trust issue. And if you ignore that, you’re gaslighting your dog’s entire nervous system.
There was this one moment—early spring 2023. Rainy day. I was fostering a skittish mutt named Ivy. She flinched at everything: umbrellas, sneakers, my microwave beeping. One day, she cowered under the couch because I dropped a spoon. I tried to coax her out with hot dogs. Didn’t work. What did work? Sitting silently on the floor, humming old Arctic Monkeys songs. Took 40 minutes. No commands. Just presence.
So remember this: your dog isn’t a problem to solve. They’re a language to learn.
And fear doesn’t leave on command.
4. A United Front That’s Falling Apart Behind the Scenes
Nothing confuses a dog more than a house divided.
You say “off.” Your partner says “down.” Your teenager giggles when the dog jumps up. Grandma sneaks them food under the table while swearing she didn’t.
Your dog? Lost. Bouncing between expectations like a pinball in an arcade no one’s supervising.
Want to slow your training down to a crawl? Be inconsistent together. It’s a team effort, this failure thing.
Coco, a dog I trained with in late 2024—was a victim of this chaos. The family meant well. They just never agreed on the rules. Couch or no couch? Crate or bed? Half the house was training, the other half was sabotaging it with cuddles and table scraps.
Solution? Write it down. Literally. One cue list. One set of rules. Tape it to the fridge. It’s not strict. It’s clarity.
And maybe, just maybe, less yelling.
5. Expecting a Masterpiece Instead of a Messy Work-in-Progress
Last one. Probably the most important.
You want your dog to be perfect. Admit it. A flawless, tail-wagging angel who comes when called, never chews your socks, and certainly never pees on your new rug from Wayfair.
But perfection? It’s a myth. A mirage. Some days your dog will nail it. Other days? He’ll forget his own name. Just like us.
You ever go to the grocery store, walk into the produce section and completely forget why you’re there? Dogs do that all the time. That’s not defiance. That’s being alive.
You’re not raising a robot. You’re raising a creature—with joy, fear, confusion, and maybe gas.
So celebrate small wins. Track the good days. Laugh at the disasters (eventually).
And don’t quit. Ever.
One Final, Half-Formed, Unpolished Thought
Your dog is trying. So are you.
Sometimes you’ll get it wrong. Other times you’ll feel like you’re shouting into the void. Sometimes the void licks your face and knocks over your coffee.
Keep going anyway.
Because dog training? It’s not about control. Is about connection. It’s messy, nonlinear, full of weird metaphors and muddy paw prints. But it’s also joy. And growth. And learning to speak heart-to-heart with a creature who doesn’t use words.
So ditch the perfection. Hug the mess.
And start again tomorrow—with snacks.