Playing the Wingman

“Oh jeeze!  DON’T look!”

“What?”

“Oh, man, That Person is coming this way.”

You and your friend look at the table, the lint on your sleeve, the ice in your glass, your cell phone.  Anywhere but up.

An arm lands on your shoulder.

“Heeeeeey, what are you folks up to tonight?” That Person says.

Do you:

A.    Smile and make nice, hoping That Person will find someone else to bother … SOON!

B.     Tell That Person that you and your friend are having a private discussion.

C.     Don’t say or do anything and hope That Person will go away

D.    Get up and leave

E. Tell That Person to get lost.

We’ve all had this experience at least once.  That Person is often a stranger, can be male or female, and usually isn’t life threatening.  So why is it that we don’t want to meet or even make eye contact with That Person?  Something about That Person makes us uncomfortable.  It’s an aura or scent or something that gives us a bad first impression and the following non-responsiveness to the social cues we’re giving (averted eyes, appearing busy with something, disinterest in the approach) and invasion of personal space further confirm the first impression.  Our response to That Person is determined by our personality and by our previous experiences with similar people and their reaction to our responses.

Are any of the responses wrong? What if That Person doesn’t leave and becomes increasingly obnoxious and invasive?  Is there a point where yelling becomes appropriate?  What about violence? 

As human beings, most of us do not like everybody.  Most of us learn that not everyone will like us.  We use our social skills to be polite and courteous, but we expect others to respect our boundaries and our preferences.  But what happens when these boundaries are crossed?  We have a right to defend our boundaries and ourselves to various degrees.

Going back to the situation, what if your friend, your “wingman,” disagrees with your response? What if your “wingman” sides with That Person?  We expect our friend to side with us, defend us, if necessary, run interference.  Goose to our Maverick, Sam to our Michael Weston, Butch to our Sundance, Ethel to our Lucy.  A good wingman can diffuse the situation, can prevent violence.  Knowing someone has our back makes us feel safe and confident.

Trust your dog's instinct about That Dog

Let’s replay the above scene, dog version.

You and your dog are out for a walk.  Your dog sees That Dog.  Your dog looks away, sniffs at the grass, sits and scratches itself.  The other dog hurries closer, wants to touch noses and sniff your dog’s butt.

The options are more complex this time.  Your dog is bound to you and cannot leave since it is on leash.  Does your dog:

A.   A. Slowly wag its tail and allow the other dog to come nose to nose, sniff butts … and hope the other dog will stop there and leave

B.     Stand stiffly and stare (possibly growl) at the other dog

C.     Stand still, look away, and refuse to interact

D.    Go behind you or as far away from the other dog as the leash will permit

E.     Bark, lunge, and snarl at the dog to prevent it from coming any closer

A dog’s response is similar to a human’s in that it’s based on personality and past experiences.  Did That Dog become increasingly invasive?  Did That Dog attack?  Most importantly, because the dog is restrained on a leash, what did the handler do?

As guardians for our dogs, we have an obligation to teach our dogs proper social skills.  But we also have a responsibility to have our dogs’ back when That Dog is ignoring the proper signals.  With the flight option gone, without our intervention, the last option available for a dog on leash is to fight. 

Ideally, we should be our dog’s “wingman,” scoping out the area for That Dog.  It’s hard to tell who it will be, but it’s usually an off-leash dog charging at your dog.  Despite what the human behind That Dog says, a rushing dog is NOT friendly.  It’s rude.  The approached dog can’t read the body language since it’s the “narrow part” that’s facing him.  A human stranger running towards me would make me nervous as well.  Any species running at another species is suspicious at the very least.  A dog’s response is normally to stand at high alert, ready to fight (since it’s on leash) just in case the rush turns bad.  As the “wingman,” we should step between the dogs and walk away.  If That Dog slows, lowers its head and walks alongside, then it’s up to your dog if the meet should continue.

Looking away, doing other behaviors such as sniffing the ground or and scratching are a dog’s way of saying I’m not interested.  There is no reason to allow another dog to sniff your dog if your dog is uncomfortable.  There is a reason why your dog is uncomfortable.  If sniffing starts, a polite sniff lasts no more than 1-2 seconds.  Any longer, and That Dog is violating your dog’s space.  Step between the dogs and move on.

Most people find that once their dogs can rely on their handlers to intervene on their behalf, they become less nervous about other dogs.    These dogs can become more relaxed and confident when other dogs approach them.

Finally, don’t let your dog be That Dog.  Teach your dog proper social skills.  If another dog looks away from your dog, teach your dog to come to you and respect the other dog’s disinterest.  If your dog is pulling and dragging you to go see another dog, don’t reward the behavior by allowing it to greet the other dog.  Teach him to play it cool (turn around, go the opposite direction, then try again more calmly).  Your dog doesn’t need to force itself to be “friends” with all other dogs.  A few select dog friends are fine.  In fact, your dog really doesn’t need to have any dog friends.  He’s got the best friend and wingman in the world:  You.

The Pre-Owned Problem - August Newsletter



Shelter dogs tend to be good dogs who were never trained.



When I was around 8 years old, my parents decided we could get a dog. I asked my father if we could adopt a dog from the pound. He replied, “Why would we want to take home someone else’s problem?” He knew of what he spoke. 10 years earlier, he had found a dog and took it in. He later sent it to the pound because it constantly jumped the fence and took off after bicyclists and cars (no doubt partially due to my birth and the dog's relocation to the yard and what amounted to solitary confinement). So, my father interviewed several breeders, found one with dogs of good temperament, then evaluated and bought one of their puppies. We house trained Baron,and taught him the basics of sit, down, stay, and come, a few tricks, and how to heel on leash. We had a wonderful family dog who lived with us until he passed away from cancer at the decent age (for that time) of 13 years.
Still, once on my own, I vowed to only have shelter/rescue dogs.  Six dogs later and having volunteered and worked in a shelter, I have to admit my father’s remark has an element of truth to it, especially when adopting adult dogs.  Unless picked up as a stray, an adult dog winds up in a shelter because its was a financial, emotional, and/or physical “problem” for the family.  With the majority of shelter dogs between 9 – 24 months old (dog adolescence) with little to no training, the likely scenario is that the cute puppy with puppy behaviors grew up to be a bigger dog with the same behaviors.  Puppy piddles became doggy puddles.  Jumping play with puppy teeth became rough play with hard pressure dog fangs.  


To make matters more complicated, it usually takes a few months between considering surrendering a dog to a shelter and actually taking it to the shelter, which means the owner's frustration level has increased greatly, usually involving banishing the dog to an out of the way area (as my father did) such as the yard, garage, or basement before making the final decision to get rid of "the problem."  This can create secondary problems, such as barrier frustration and a lack of socialization with people, environments, and other dogs.  Basically, the problem with most shelter dogs is that they were never taught appropriate behaviors for home living.  But that doesn’t mean they can’t learn.

The most important thing for shelter dog adopters to realize is that age does not necessarily equal training.  Assume the dog has never been trained and knows no house rules.  In other words, and treat the adult dog like a puppy.  Take the dog to the vet to make sure it is healthy.  Restrict the dog to one room at first to keep the dog from becoming overwhelmed, to get an idea of what the dog already knows, and to contain any potential damage.  Crate training can be helpful.  Do not leave the dog loose in the yard or house while unsupervised.  Housetrain (even if the dog seems to know), teach the dog to respond to its new name, and take basic manners classes.   Don’t take it to the dog park until it knows its name, reliably comes when called, and you know that it gets along with other dogs.  Plan for the worst, but hope for the best.  Remember that even at best, the dog won’t know your specific rules.   Be consistent and patient.  The dog isn’t being spiteful, stubborn, or stupid.  It just doesn’t know what’s expected.


Typically, the first few weeks to several months are a “honeymoon” period.  Many dogs have had several transitions before arriving at their new home.  They are under duress, evaluating the current circumstances, becoming accustomed to new routines, people, and even sounds.  They are learning what’s safe and what isn’t.  Once they start to feel comfortable with what has been allowed, they start to explore freedoms they want, like suddenly jumping up on the furniture or peeing in the house because no one has said that they couldn’t.  Have patience. Train and retrain.  It will go faster the second time.  You might also realize there are some rules you haven’t considered.


Some common issues such as barking at barriers, barking and lunging at other dogs while on leash, and a fearfulness of new environments and people might also appear. These often developed while the dog was in isolation before the family surrendered the dog.  Many shelters will have identified these issues and should supply guidance for how to help your new dog adjust. Private training can help the dogs adjust to your specific circumstances.



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First impressions matter.  Don't force a match.

Shelter dog or purchased dog, if there is already a dog in the household, and you're adding another dog, use discretion.  Have the dogs meet before making a decision to bring in the new dog.  Introduce the potential new dog in neutral territory.   Generally, dogs of the opposite sex, with the resident dog being older have a better chance of getting along.     If you have more than one resident dog, introduce the dogs individually to the new dog, and then in combinations.    Don’t leave the new dog with the resident dog unsupervised until you are SURE they get along. 

Before adopting from a shelter/rescue group, do some research.  Find out how the shelter/rescue group determines a dog’s adoptability and if they use temperament testing.    Because even the best shelters can be stressful, a dog’s personality might change once it becomes comfortable in its home, it might become more or less active.  However, this could also happen with puppies transitioning into adulthood.  There are no guarantees with any living, learning creatures.

A great book for adult dog adopters is is Dr. Patricia McConnell's new book, Love Has No Age Limit.  It's short, readable, inexpensive, and written by an animal behaviorist (one of my favorite writers about dogs).  It's available on Dr. McConnell's website  as well as Amazon.  Even if you aren't planning on adopting an adult dog in the near future, I strongly recommend it for its insight.

Will my next dog be a shelter/rescue dog?  Absolutely, and most likely not a puppy since I prefer to by-pass the physical limitations and transitions of puppyhood.  Is a shelter dog for you?  With open eyes, an open heart, and patience you might be surprised to find that a shelter/rescue dog is no problem.  No problem at all.