Always Believe the Dog!

I was leaving the park after my usual morning walk when I spotted a familiar face—a fur-covered-one, that is. The ginormous Akita (and I mean seriously ginormous) I’ll call Ace was sprawled belly down across the top of a cement picnic table, taking up the entire surface. His owner stood next to him and waved in greeting. I’d petted Ace many times before and he’d always seemed happy for the attention. But as I approached, speaking in my usual aren’t-you-a-good-dog voice, I sensed that Ace wasn’t quite relaxed. I stopped short of petting him, and a moment later, he made a sound that I can only describe as a short, “sort of” growl. It wasn’t a normal “chuff” and certainly not a full-on growl, but it brought me up short. Not being familiar with Ace’s particular repertoire of vocalizations, and not being a fan of being bitten, I stopped and told his owner I didn’t think Ace wanted to be petted. At first the man said not to worry, that Ace had always been fine with me, but a moment later he mentioned something I hadn’t seen from my vantage point; Ace’s leash was tied down to the leg of the bench. Ah! Now it made sense. With his movement restricted, Ace could well have felt vulnerable. It’s also possible that being physically higher up contributed to his attitude. Who knows? But all things considered, I was glad to have listened to my instincts.

I had a similar experience many years ago when I was visiting a woman who had four wolves that were kept in a large enclosure. I’ve always made it a practice to greet wolves through a chain link fence first, to gauge their temperament and interest in meeting. One wolf in particular gave me pause. The large silver male wasn’t displaying aggressive body language, and he wasn’t actually doing anything I could put my finger on. But my gut was sending up red flags. I asked the woman to lock him in the catch pen (a smaller pen within the enclosure) before I entered. She assured me that he was very friendly and there wouldn’t be a problem, but I insisted. Once he was secured, I entered and interacted with the others. At some point, though, when I stood close to the catch pen, the silver wolf lunged and snapped and generally made me glad I’d believed him when he silently told me this was not going to be okay.

Of course, if someone says their dog is aggressive, the best course of action is to believe them and avoid contact. But what about when someone says their dog is friendly, and yet the dog is broadcasting otherwise? I always believe the dog. It’s one of the things I love best about dogs; they’ll always tell you how they’re feeling, if only you’ll pay attention. If you’ve had similar experiences, I’d love to hear about them. ___________________________________________________________________  You can find my books and streaming seminars at www.nicolewilde.com and follow me on Facebook @NicoleWildeauthor. My mentoring service can be found at Dog Trainer's Friend. And if wildlife photos are your thing, check out my Instagram at nicolewildeart.