Taking responsibility for your Dog’s behaviour

Why Responsibility Starts with Us

We live in a time where everyone seems to have an opinion, and thanks to social media, they’re more than happy to share it. The comment sections of Instagram or TikTok are filled with unsolicited advice or unwanted opinions, and that same energy has spilt into real life.

Let’s be honest: no one likes being told what to do, especially by a complete stranger. Change is hard enough when you’re the one seeking it, so trying to get someone to change when they’ve no motivation to do so is like trying to milk a chicken. So why do we sometimes feel the need to tell someone else how to live—or in my case, how to handle their dog?

The truth is, I found myself doing exactly that the other day.

I try not to engage with people when I’m out walking my dogs. It might come across as unfriendly, but if you’ve ever walked dogs in London parks, you’ll know they can be absolute chaos. I keep my focus on my three dogs to avoid unnecessary drama.

We were playing a great game of fetch with a squeaky ball—taking turns, chasing, returning. It’s not just exercise for them; it’s bonding, recall training, impulse control, and fun all in one. I often use tug and fetch games as part of my sessions when I teach clients how to train their dog to come back or how to get their dog to listen outside and avoid distractions like squirrels, birds or other dogs.

Then, a Spaniel appeared.

I didn’t mind—dogs often join us. A friendly black Lab regularly plays with us and, though his owner follows him around calling his name with zero success, I usually just show the Lab a treat, ask for a drop, and carry on. I assumed this would be the same.

But this Spaniel had no recall and definitely hadn’t been taught how to drop the ball. He’d race off with it or run circles around his owner. Eventually, the man would get the ball back and reward him—but it was slow going. Meanwhile, my dogs, much slower than the Spaniel, weren’t getting a look in, and the game was losing its rhythm.

This is where I made my fatal error.

Instead of simply walking away—which, frankly, I shouldn’t have had to do—I made a suggestion. I said, “If you show him the food before he drops the ball, he’ll let go quicker.”

Now in my head, this was gold. A helpful, respectful nudge from a professional. Surely, he’d thank me, beam with gratitude, and tell all his friends about the brilliant trainer he met in the park. (I’m being facetious, but you get the idea.)

Instead, he snapped, “Well, maybe if you weren’t playing with the ball near my dog, I wouldn’t have to ask him to drop it.”

Ouch.

And look, I get it—some of you might agree with him. But this is the point of this blog: just because we don’t like something in our environment doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be there.

We don’t have control over other people, their dogs, or their choices. But we do have control over how we respond. That mindset—that ownership—is a key teaching in the 12 Steps of AA, a programme that helps people change their thinking and develop healthier coping strategies, whether or not addiction is in the picture.

It’s also true in dog training.

Trying to control other people, or expecting them to change because it suits us, is pointless. Change is hard enough when we want it for ourselves. Think of how tough it is to build a new habit, like improving recall or teaching your dog fetch properly. Now imagine trying to impose that on a stranger in the park.

Both me and this man were being ridiculous.

I broke my own rule: don’t give advice unless it’s asked for—or paid for. I’ve rarely had a good response when I’ve offered unsolicited advice, and yet as a professional who loves dog training and sees real results for my clients, sometimes I slip up and share anyway because I want to help.

He was also unreasonable. Expecting someone else to stop their game because his dog doesn’t know how to ignore balls, doesn’t listen outside, and has no drop or recall—well, that’s not my responsibility.

Of course, if he’d approached me and said, “Hey, do you mind pausing while I get my dog on the lead?”—I would have happily obliged. That’s happened plenty of times and I always say yes. We're all just trying our best with our dogs. None of them are perfect. They’re sentient beings and sometimes they ignore us. It happens.

But this man didn’t take any responsibility for his dog’s behaviour—and sadly, that’s something I see a lot. I used to do it myself: blaming other owners, blaming circumstances, blaming distractions. But it doesn’t help.

Here’s the truth: we are responsible for our dogs. If they are not listening, more precisely, not responding to us, that’s a failure on our part. We haven’t learnt their language, we haven’t built that bond and introduced distractions over time. Simply, we haven’t put in the work.

If your dog doesn’t come when called and ends up snatching sandwiches from someone’s picnic, that’s your problem. And yes, people having picnics in the middle of a dog park can be frustrating. But they have just as much right to be there, and it’s a great chance to practice how to get your dog to ignore things and stay focused.

The reality is that too many people give their dogs too much freedom before they’ve earned it. And that’s when problems arise—even if it’s “just” an argument between two owners. Worse could be your dog getting attacked because it ran up to a dog on a lead, which is a no no in dog etiquette. Yes, you could argue that dog should be on a muzzle but any dog should be able to walk about without other dogs approaching it. It’s on a lead for a reason. So essentially if your dog got attacked in that circumstance, that’s your responsibility and definitely a big problem.

If your dog doesn’t have reliable recall, or you’re struggling with how to get your dog to ignore balls, bikes, food, or other dogs, that’s OK. But take responsibility for it. Use a longline. Practice structured recall training. Or better yet, work with a professional.

If you’re looking for dog training in London and you want to know how to get your dog to listen outside, ignore distractions, or finally come back when called—I can show you how to get there. It doesn’t have to be hard, and it doesn’t take years.

But it does take ownership. And that starts with us.