Getting Curious About Canines

What your dog's behavior is really trying to tell you

I love looking back at the arc of my career and noticing just how certain I was in those first five years compared to now, twenty-something years later. When we think about learning, we tend to picture this nice linear path — the more we learn, the further along the path we go. Or perhaps, a tidy Venn diagram with a satisfying upward trajectory. But that’s not really how it works.

We make so many assumptions, especially about something as common as dogs. They are called Canis Familiaris after all. And the more you really start paying attention, getting curious, going down the rabbit hole — the more the conundrum grows. The more you learn about these incredible creatures, the more you realize how much you don’t know. I suppose that’s true with just about anything.

I’ve been scared to commit things to writing for a long time because of how much I learn, grow, and change my mind on a regular basis. I value being wrong. I enjoy learning and updating my opinions. But I also know how much of an idiot you can look like when you’ve committed something to writing. I cringe a little when I look back at things I wrote or videos I made fifteen-plus years ago — mostly just at the certainty. My former self was so committed to the things he knew.

If you spend any time talking to people in the scientific and academic community, you run into the most obnoxious two-word phrase constantly. Ask them almost anything that requires a definitive answer, and you’ll get: “It depends.” It feels like a cop-out at first. But it’s actually the most honest answer a thinking person can give. We live in a time that rewards confidence, credentials, and the projection of expert authority. But what we should really be looking for are people who are thinking, curious, and still asking questions.

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What’s the Function?

I love the variety of dogs I get to work with in a given week. My caseload runs the full spectrum — from 14-week-old puppies just learning how to exist in a human environment, to 12-year-old senior dogs figuring out how to cope with a new baby in the house. From the dog who barks excessively during playtime to the dog who has bitten seven different veterinarians during routine exams. The range is wild and I relish how much critical thinking it can take to assess and create a solid behavior plan for each individual. Behavior is the study of one, after all.

The basic premise stays the same across all of it: I teach people to understand what dogs need to actually thrive in our world, how to build mutual communication, create a foundation of behaviors, and help dogs flourish through enrichment and training. But the most important part of what I do is getting curious about the behavior itself.

Behavior has a function. And it’s almost never what people think it is.

Most of my clients come in saying things like: “He does this because he’s stubborn.” “She started doing this because she got mad at me.” “My dog knows this is wrong, but does it anyway.” This kind of labeling is so damaging. Not only does it paint dogs as vindictive, manipulative little creatures — it internalizes the behavior. It turns behavioral strategies into personality traits. It stops the curiosity dead in its tracks.

I teach all my clients to use the three-letter acronym in behavior work? WTF — no, no... What’s the Function?

Is the barking getting you to throw the ball faster, or is it just a byproduct of the sheer arousal of the game? Is the food-stealing really about needing more nutrition, or does your dog love the reaction they get when you chase them around the yard trying to get it back? Does your dog really hate people in lab coats — or does biting the vet reliably get hands off their body and end the discomfort of the exam?

Behavior has a purpose. And when we get genuinely curious about why a behavior developed, we often find that the answer is pointing us exactly toward what that behavior is protecting for the animal.

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Teaching Dogs to Say No

When I consult with veterinary teams and their clients, I’m usually trying to help people teach their dogs to feel — and that word feel is doing a lot of work here — safe and comfortable at the vet. I don’t need them to love it. I just want them to feel like they have some agency.

In professional training circles, we call this type of training cooperative care — giving animals a voice during procedures so they can pause or stop things when it becomes too frightening or overwhelming. I had a personal reminder of how important this is during some painful dental work last year. While the dentist had their hands in my mouth, I couldn’t speak. But they told me I could raise my hand if I needed them to stop. That raised hand was a lifeline.

I sat there thinking about what it must feel like to have no voice, no signal, no control over what’s happening to your own body.

That’s what getting curious really means. When you experience something in your own life — the panic of feeling trapped, recall the restlessness of the pandemic when you just needed to get outside, the delight of tasting something completely new, the warmth of meeting someone who might become a real friend — pause and ask: When’s the last time my dog had this experience?

When’s the last time my dog felt trapped and had no voice? When’s the last time my dog made a new friend? When’s the last time I gave them something genuinely novel — a new food, a new place, a new thing to explore?

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Science Is a Process, Not a Trophy

You hear a lot these days about doing things “based in science.” It’s meant to signal credibility — like science has proven we’re right and our way is best. But that’s not how science works.

Science gives you a collection of data from which you form a working understanding of the world. But science is also fundamentally about ongoing research, exploration, and revision. When you build enough evidence that contradicts your current model, you’re supposed to update the model. That’s the whole point.

What I see instead, increasingly, is people doubling down when confronted with contradictory evidence. They’ve built an identity around their paradigm. We see this everywhere in our culture right now, and the dog training world is not immune.

We need to stay skeptical. Stay open. The world is so much more interesting when you can turn the page and start a new chapter.

Think about how our relationship with dogs has shifted. There was a time when dogs were seen as subservient animals, lucky to get a scrap from the table and a minute of your attention. Slowly, that paradigm started to change. Now, dogs are considered widly to be family members. That’s real progress.

But what people say about dogs and what dogs actually experience day to day are still miles apart. I see so much unnecessary suffering. Dogs with crippling separation anxiety. Social animals becoming more and more isolated. We have access to more education, better healthcare, deeper understanding than ever before — and yet so many dogs aren’t thriving.

Doesn’t that mean it’s time to start asking better questions?

So, What Are You Curious About?

Here’s what I’ve learned after twenty-something years of working with dogs: the moment you think you have it figured out is usually the moment you’ve stopped paying attention.

The dog who’s “stubborn” is waiting for you to get curious about what he actually needs. The dog who bit the vet is waiting for someone to ask what she’s so afraid of. The senior dog who suddenly started acting out isn’t being difficult — she’s communicating something, and she’s hoping someone will wonder what.

Getting curious about canines isn’t a technique. It’s not a training method or a philosophy you can slap a logo on. It’s a practice. It’s the daily decision to slow down, notice, and ask why before you ask how do I stop this.

It means asking the uncomfortable questions — about what our dogs are actually experiencing inside our modern lives, about whether “thriving” means more than just being fed and housed and loved in the abstract. It means being willing to be wrong about something you were really sure of last year. It means sitting with “it depends” long enough to actually find out what it depends on.

The dogs in your life are already curious about everything — every smell, every sound, every new face that walks through the door. They’re doing their part. The question is whether we’re willing to meet them there.

So here’s your call to action, and it couldn’t be simpler: get curious. Not about dog training. Not about behavior modification. Just about your dog.

This week, watch them without an agenda. Notice what lights them up and what shuts them down. Ask when the last time was that they got to make a choice, try something new, or feel genuinely safe. Follow one question wherever it takes you.

That’s where it starts. That’s where it always starts.

And if you want to think through what you’re noticing — share it in the comments. Because honestly? I’m still curious too.

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