23/02/2025
WHEN ANIMAL ADVOCACY IS AN ACT OF DEFIANCE
trigger warning: discusses acts of animal harm and coercive acts around dog training
I'd like to share a story from a more recent client family. They've given me permission to share as I thought that what had happened to them was important enough to talk about and think about.
They are genuinely lovely people. Their dog Cally has nipped a couple of people who've reached out to grab her in public, and we're dealing with the repercussions of that.
Because of the nature of my work, the first few sessions are often by zoom. I really don't want to add to a bite statistic! That way, I can chat with people, get to know them virtually, take background information and not have to ride a tide of anxiety from people wondering if my dog will bite them or not. It also means we can all relax, take a breath, stop if we need to, share video and I can also record it if they want me to.
It transpired that their dog had, in fact, bitten another trainer. They didn't tell me this until their fourth session when we were up close and personal. It wouldn't have made me do anything differently because any dog could, in theory, take umbrage and decide today is the day.
That's a pretty serious thing not to tell someone, though.
I didn't need to ask why. It came in the midst of a conversation we were having related to something else and we were talking about the challenges of shame and guilt.
It was our second in-person session. I turned up at the house to walk the dog with them so we could talk about some of their challenges advocating for their dog on daily walks. We'd had coffee and a chat before we'd gone out, chewing over the practicalities.
As we all moved to get ready for a walk, I noticed a prong collar on the side next to Cally's harness and lead.
"I hope you don't mind me asking," I said, "but is this something you've used?"
"No..." they said, with hesitation. I left space for them to decide whether this was something they wanted to share or not.
"We took her to a trainer before you," Diane, one of Cally's guardians said. "He recommended we buy it from him. He showed us how to use it in the session, but we didn't like it so we've never used it."
There was a change in the air. They both seemed hesitant to go further, so I left it at that. We put Cally's lead on and we stepped out of the house for a walk.
Cally isn't reactive to people. She's largely tolerant of whatever they do. She's happy to approach and she has a great relationship with her family. But when she's approached by a stranger who reaches out to grab her and she's cornered, she now has a history of not being listened to.
Same for her guardians.
They are polite, kind, gentle people.
Where I might tell someone to sling their hook if they try to pet my dog without asking, and especially if they ignore my request for space, they don't have that history.
They live on the edge of a small market town with a large park, which they all enjoy using. From time to time, they've walked Cally in town, which has been the usual scene of the crime. In the park, either off-lead or on-lead, there is space for them to move away. In a narrow and restrictive cobbled alleyway, it's much easier for people to decide that petting Cally is their right. This also means Cally can't move away, especially if it's busy.
We were talking about strategies to advocate for Cally, rather than restricting walks completely to open spaces.
"The thing is," I said, "sometimes being polite is such a habit that we forget to advocate for our dog and other people take advantage of that."
Diane went quiet.
"You know," she said, "I think that's what happened with that awful collar."
"What do you mean?"
"I paid £50 for that! We've never used it and we knew there and then that we never would. I looked at Ken and we both knew we wouldn't use it on Cally. Our advocating is coming after something bad has happened, not before."
She was visibly upset. We all sat down and the full story came out - the story they'd been too ashamed to tell me.
Cally had twice nipped people who'd petted her - that much was true. I don't mean to minimise this description. She put teeth on people but it was quick and did the job it was designed to do: make unwanted hands go away.
They'd gone to see another local trainer for a private session. He'd charged them five times my price, saw Cally only at his facility, insisted they buy a prong collar from him (at a mark-up, it transpires) and proceded to use it on her. He showed them how to use it and then played the role of someone coming up to Cally to pet her.
"Just give it a tug," he'd apparently said. "Say, 'no!' in a firm tone and then tug her again if she shows any sign of aggression."
He'd played the role of a person approaching her, and, as he stuck his hands in her face, Cally bit him.
"Tug her!" the guy said.
They did, and they left having settled the bill.
Because they are such polite and decent people, it didn't cross their minds to say no. They don't have a history of doing so. They work on the notion that people are like them - good and kind on the whole. That's the world they live in.
They did that thing we all might do: we decide not to go back. We write off the costs, chalk it up to experience and find another way to get our needs met.
No negative feedback. No reporting the guy to the council, the police, or even trading standards. They just didn't go back. The collar sat on the side where it had been ever since they returned home that day.
Diane shared a lot that session. Most of it was her realisation that she did the same in both situations in town as well as with the trainer.
She had APOLOGISED for their transgression.
SHE felt bad. SHE felt ashamed.
The truth is that many advocates of abusive tools and punitive, coercive approaches with animals depend on OUR compliance. They know that most of us don't have a history of saying no to so-called experts. They know they have us over a barrel and they exploit it. Their history is one of coercion and bullying. They rely on us to simply comply with it.
It made me realise how many of us end up in situations where we have been pressured to adopt strict methods, told that being gentle equates to passivity and lax or permissive behaviour. The old moral sa**sm: you've got to be cruel to be kind.
Sometimes we opt out. We simply don't go back. I wondered how many other people had paid up £250 for a single appointment and £50 for a prong collar and then never gone back.
Sometimes, we are seduced into normalising violence by the role of the so-called expert. They're the dog trainer, after all. Surely they know what they are doing. They are also experts in coercion, dipping a toe in the water to push boundaries, using social groups to exert pressure and using logical fallacies to trick us into conforming. Even if it felt a bit wrong at the time, we invest in it and it becomes ever more normal over time. They may even use their social media 'influencer' credentials and the power of social referencing to convince us of the 'new' normal.
It's rare for people to notice some of the subtle ways that these things occur. Or they just vote with their absence and never return.
There can be repercussions for active defiance. Never more so when you have a dog who has bitten members of the public and the pressure of euthanasia looms over you.
Nowhere is 'informed consent' part of the agenda. In ten years, I have discussed the use of punishment with clients. I've also explained the risks, side effects and predictable fallout. That's my job. I do the same with any approach, including the use of food, treats and even environmental management.
To Diane and Ken, we intended to muzzle train Cally and do some cooperative care so that this didn't happen with the vet. We also spoke about ways to advocate up front for Cally, before she has to do it for herself.
No intervention is without tensions. No intervention is neutral. We can advise with the most benign of motivations but if we don't understand the tensions of our suggestions, we behaviour folk and dog trainers cannot give full information to our clients so their consent can be truly informed.
Whenever we change something, there are repercussions. Speaking up for Cally sounds righteous until it puts you in conflict with a hateful bully, for instance. There is never a time that advocating for our dog is risk-free. We depend, ironically, on other people's compliance when we do. My clients need to be prepared for this moment. I'm a defiant individual with a long history of clearly defining my boundaries. I was also physically assaulted for doing so. There are tensions in any behaviour choice we make.
I wonder how many of us have been manipulated into actions we'd not otherwise have taken with our dogs, or have simply walked away from conflict as our mode of advocating.
It's hard - defying strong cultural pressures. I can't even tell you the number of uncomfortable dogs in head halters I see on our walks. Ideas pass between us without anyone ever sharing the tensions, and few people stop to question it.
To truly advocate for our dogs, we need to be comfortable with the spectrum of defiance.
Sometimes, that's simply proudly walking my dog in her bright and colourful harness with her long lead. Sometimes, it's a firm 'no!' to strangers. I don't care about their feelings.
But I also understand that many of us may have made decisions we feel ashamed of because we put the feelings of a strange bully, violating our boundaries, over the feelings of our dog.
This human malarky... never as easy as it looks!
Be proud in your defiance when it means advocating for your dog though. It doesn't matter how expert the other individual is. I had to quietly prompt the chief vet to listen to my dog Lidy's heart & lungs last week. You can be a vet of 39 years' experience and get carried away, of course. I'd like to hope people would do the same with me too. My vet was very gracious, and I was happy Lidy wasn't being sedated without that useful data.
Advocating for a dog can be big acts or small ones. But like everything in life, it gets easier the more you do it.
Dog Training & Behaviour in Wi******er (Hampshire), Berks, Surrey & London. Jade Nicholas CAB 🐶 Jade Nicholas CAB, MSc.
