09/30/2025
I really appreciate this perspective. It’s one I follow as well!
This morning, I watched a woman and her dog standing waiting to cross the road to the beach. The woman lifted her dog’s leash and ordered “Sit.” He was vibrating with the anticipation of salt air, wet sand and probably unleashed freedom ahead. He tucked his head, licked his lips, folded into a sit, and then (because he is a living being not a statue!!!) stood again. She quickly pressed his rump down and growled “SIT!” Cars rolled by until she finally walked away. I stood there thinking, but WHY? What does this achieve that a calm stand beside you cannot?
Later in our walk we stopped at the coffee kiosk for a drink of water and the barista asked if she could give Juno a biscuit. “Yes please, she would love that! Just please don’t pet her, that’s not her favourite thing.” The woman walked around, biscuit appeared in hand and then the reflexive: “Sit!” Again: “Sit!” As if snack distribution requires knees to the floor. I joked, “She doesn’t really know that one,” and Juno got her biscuit standing politely, thrilled, no choreography required. I mean, imagine a café that made customers squat before collecting their flat white! Geez!
Here’s the case against compulsory sits in everyday life:
First, it answers the wrong question. At a busy crossing, the actual goal is safety and steadiness, not a specific joint angle. “Waiting with me” is the behaviour. Standing can meet that goal just as well as sitting. Often it meets it better, because the dog can shift weight, balance on uneven ground, and be ready to step back with us if a vehicle creeps forward. Or, you could take the opportunity to engage with your dog!
Second, “sit” is not neutral for many dogs. It can be physically uncomfortable on cold pavement, hot asphalt, wet sand, sharp gravel, or when the dog has sore hips, back pain, tight hip flexors, or post-surgery stiffness. For some conformations, a tidy square sit is simply hard. For older dogs, it can be costly. We would not ask a friend with knee pain to crouch at every kerb. Why do we insist on it from a dog who has already offered a perfectly good stand-and-wait?
Third, it often suppresses communication. Lip licks, head tucks, and weight shifts are information. The dog at the crossing today told us he was excited and uncomfortable when he was forced to sit. Pushing his rump down did not teach road safety. It didn’t even teach “calm.” It taught that expressing normal arousal earns heavier pressure.
Fourth, when did kindness become a transaction? Juno doesn’t have to sit, spin, or salute to enjoy a biscuit. She’s already doing the behaviours that matter: four feet on the floor, breathing, existing. That is enough! Not everything needs to be “earned.” Some things can just be offered. If I want calm, I’ll teach calm. If I want safety, I’ll set the scene for safety. Hand her the cookie. Let simple pleasures be simple.
Fifth, the ritual of “sit” is about us, not them. “Sit” is the obedience culture’s Swiss Army knife. It lets humans feel visibly in control in public. The problem is that control is not the same as cooperation. Control is cheap and shallow. Cooperation is richer, more durable, and far more ethical. If the learner can choose a comfortable posture and still meet the safety criterion, that is cooperation.
Sixth, there are far better skills to focus on. If you want a dog who can wait at a kerb, teach a “wait” or a shared pause.
Finally, choice matters. It is not about letting dogs run the intersection. It is about designing the moment so they can choose among acceptable options. At a crossing, acceptable options might include stand close and still, or sit if that is comfortable, maybe it’s lying down! Maybe it’s look at me. Maybe it’s a target. All of those behaviour are safe options and allowingthem to choose what feels right for them means you are a lot more likely to have a happy dog and a desirable outcome.
