Why Dogs Bark and Lunge on the Leash

If I’d dig up all my clients’ files from the last 15 years, I bet half my dog book collection that on-leash aggression was the single most problem behavior owners hired me to help them with. On-leash aggression, or rather reactivity, is very common.
The typical explanation most laypeople, and some trainers, offer for the kind of barking and lunging that makes everyone’s head turn, frightens the targeted individual, and embarrasses the owner, is that the dog is protective, dominant, thinks he is in charge. It seems plausible: after all, the dog is moving forward, toward the target, and he is loud and threatening. However, “This is my space/mom/kid” - fill in the blanks – “get lost” is typically not the motivation that drives leash reactivity, and more enlightened dog pros know this.
If not dominance, what are the reasons for a dog flipping out? Well, there are several, rooted in following underlying emotions: fear, distress, excitement, frustration.

Failure to socialize, meaning that the pup didn't have enough exposure to a variety of environmental stimuli during the critical developmental stages, is generally blamed when a dog is fearful. Like the dominance angle, it makes a lot of sense to people and indeed, puppies raised in a bubble or in isolation can become neophobic: will fear and react to anything new. That is compounded when the odd novel encounter was unpleasant, and if the pup felt alone - didn't have a safe refuge zone and the loyalty of his owner.
But it is not just the unfamiliar that can cause dogs to overreact. Things known, but associated with discomfort, can provoke an undesired response as well.
Dogs make a blink assessment, based on their life experience, when presented with a stimulus.
Is it familiar?
Depending on the dog, if it is unfamiliar it is automatically perceived as a threat.
If it is familiar, does it announce: Pleasure? Or Discomfort? It is safe? Or not?
Whenever a dog anticipates discomfort, the stimulus is perceived as a threat; a threat to his safety, and that always causes distress. The barking, lunging and growling are the expressions, the symptoms of it.
Familiar stimuli are cues that predict a consequence, and dogs react to cues.

One might expect that dogs perceive other dogs generally as familiar. Shouldn’t a pooch identify another as a conspecific being? Innately “know” a dog as a dog?
Not necessarily: We have a vast variety of breeds that differ in structure and behavior, and if the pup only experienced his own, he might not recognize others as familiar, but as threats.
The other aspect to consider is that dogs to each other are providers: initially food, then entertainment, but also resource competitors. Dog-dog relationships can be complex, with each unfamiliar one a potential rival, and a familiar one a known rival, unless experienced otherwise. In my professional world, lunging and barking directed at dogs is more common than toward humans.

When a fearful dog barks and lunges, his motivation is to increase the distance, to drive the perceived threat away. Yet, many owners report that their pooch relaxes once he gets close enough to get a good sniff in. Why the obvious contradiction of wanting distance, but behaving better when it decreases? There is an explanation: Information reduces anxiety because it makes the unknown more familiar and predictable, and dogs’ preferred way to gather intelligence is through the nose. When there is no information forthcoming from the owner - information that, from the dog’s point of view, provides a copout, he has no choice but to get it from the other dog, and so he’ll attempt to get closer even though emotionally he wants him to disappear.

It is not always fear, though, why a dog acts out. Frustration plays a big role, and there are several reasons why a dog can be frustrated. One, again, has to do with information seeking.
Greeting rituals exist to find out more about a stranger while preventing and defusing potential conflict meetings. That is true with humans and dogs. When we shake hands, smile, bow or curtsy, and introduce ourselves, perhaps hand over a business card, the other understands that we don’t wish confrontation. Socially normal dogs first communicate from a distance: might raise or lower their bodies, lean back or forward, open their mouths or close it, lay back their ears, orient to the opponent directly or avert their eyes, and hold or wag their tails a certain way. Depending on the back-and-forth signals, at one point they might agree to sniff each other, typically in the head and/or anogenital region, to gather detailed information. Out-of-control barking, of course, isn’t part of normal greetings, but neither is being restricted from it. When the rather dense dude at the loop end of the leash prevents his pooch from behaving normally, perhaps even from communicating properly when he manipulates him with a head halter, frustration and its expressions result.
Fear is added to frustration if the dog is choke, prong, or worst of all, shock collar punished when he reacts; when he experiences pain for being curious, for wanting to communicate, for attempting to greet in a, for his species, appropriate way. In short, if a dog’s normal social behaviors and emotions are stifled with force, the stimulus, a dog or person, becomes a cue that triggers a stress response. Even if the consequence only happens sometimes, the dog will respond accordingly all the time.
Not only that, any detail that is part of an unpleasant event can become a cue, for example: the leash, the collar, the person who dished out the punishment, and the area where it happened.
When the leash in itself is an issue, the dog is already tense before the trigger even appears. Frenetic pulling and sniffing, and completely disconnecting from his person once outside, are common signs that the dog is distressed by virtue of being on the leash and/or outdoors.

Anything in a dog’s life that has a big impact leaves a big impression and provokes a big reaction in the future. If it is other dogs that were relevant events in the pooch’s history, he'll react whenever he sees/hears/smells another dog. Big deal suggests pressure and discomfort, but that is not always the case.
Dogs who repeatedly experience other dogs as primary facilitators of physical and mental entertainment, the ones who go to daycare or are chauffeured to the dog park and let loose once a day come to mind, have a certain expectation when they encounter a dog - any dog: fun and romping begins. If it doesn’t manifest because of the leash, or not quickly enough because the person who holds it is a slow-footed creature, the pooch, you guessed it, becomes frustrated, and the outburst can look very similar to the fearful dog’s, especially to a layperson.
And by the way, that kind of frustration, when something that’s expected doesn’t happen, is not reserved to people and dogs. During a “leave” exercise, a 12-week-old beagle pup soulfully bayed at me because he couldn’t access the treat I had tossed.

There is one more aspect that falls in the frustration compartment, and it is not fear or information seeking, and also not exactly play-motivated.
Some dogs, typically ones belonging to the herding group, have a heightened sensitivity to motion combined with an innate urge to control anything that moves. Steve White calls them: “Born with a badge on their chest”. These dogs have a strong natural drive to bring order back into the perceived chaos of animated dogs – or children, and become mighty agitated when the leash prevents them from doing their self-appointed job, but also often behave improperly when off the leash, at least from others’ point of view. Even though at times jokingly referred to as “fun police”,  some dogs and most humans have little tolerance for a pooch who stalks and chases; is locked, loaded and controlling. The bossy dog also doesn’t have much fun: He is easily overstimulated when presented with ongoing commotion in a busy dog park or daycare center, and overwhelmed with the task to organize and tone everyone down a few notches. A trained herding dog knows what to do and has the guidance of his handler - and is successful. A dog who has the drive but no training, the instinct but no clue, let loose on uncooperative other dogs and trailed by a yelling, irate owner, is not successful - and distressed as a result, and reactive on, but also off the leash.
On a little side note, the serious always-on-the-job dog can also be short-fused when another butts in while they work. In that context, the ball fetching Border collie who snaps at a space-encroaching retriever is not resource guarding, but annoyed by the interruption. I recently had an Australian cattle dog client where that was clearly the case. Believed to be dominant and aggressive, she was simply so focused on her human and what he had in his hand, and if he might throw it, that anybody who'd pop in her face got a sharp and clear: "Buzz Off!" Unfortunately, in an dog park or off-leash trail, it is exactly that kind of focus that gets other dogs' attention and provokes them to "check out what that dog is so interested in".

Frustrating situations make dogs irritable and pumped, and when confronted regularly with the triggers, the cues, they become sensitized: have a heightened sensitivity to predictors, motion and sound, probably also scent, and act more and more out of control from greater and greater distances. The collar and leash, because of the restraint and discomfort they represents, amplify the problem.
The question one must ask when a dog barks and lunges is what he expects to happen next. Play? A job? Emotional discomfort? Physical pain? That expectation is based on the dog’s experience, and is what dictates future behavior. Expectation dictates behavior.
I bet what you all want to know next is what to do about it. I will tell you – in the next post, but I’ll give you a hint right now: neither clipping the leash off, nor allowing yourself being pulled closer to the trigger, is it. Oh, and commanding the dog in a sit position and coercing him to watch you isn’t it either.

Disposition: Busy and Bossy

If I ever strike it money rich, chances are that my days would unfold pretty much the same way they do now. I love my job, and every day I meet new or existing clients is a good day. Within that realm though there are good appointments, better ones, and some that are absolutely fabulous. Which is which I can typically predict when someone first contacts me.

I love all dogs, really, I do. But my favorites, my heart dogs, belong to the herding group. Whenever someone is seeking my help with their collie, or Aussie, or heeler, or Spanish water dog, or Corgi, or Sheltie, German and Belgian shepherd, it foretells, with almost 100% certainty, a fantastic consultation.

No exception to that rule with recent clients. I was the second pro they hired, which is not unusual cause I am not cheap and barely advertise, so sometimes folks find me after the other trainer failed to improve the dog’s behavior, or even made it worse. Without elaborating why this particular one didn’t work out, a comment he made totally bewildered me. He said, according to my clients, that training doesn’t work with an Australian shepherd.

What? Trust me, not true. Not at all true. To the contrary: done right, Aussies are a pleasure to train. That is why I have a fabulous day whenever they are my ruff customers.

Okay, I grant that my affinity for herding dogs not everyone shares, and I know that they can be a challeging.

As a group, they were and are bred to organize or move sheep, cattle, geese, goats or pigs, and although fervently ready to obey the ultimate boss, their person, they are also not opposed to taking command. Human and canine shepherd are a team, collaborators in bossing other animals around. From the dog’s point of view, they are playmates with the human setting the rules of the game. Person and dog are in it together, all de live long day cooperate in organizing chaos-in-motion, telling animals that are often physically bigger and stronger where to go, and when.

What traits a successful herding dog must possess is evident: Endurance, intelligence, determination, an intense motivation to work with his person but an equally strong drive to control. Herding dogs are brainy, busy and bossy beings, and much tougher than their little bodies suggest, which means that they withstand physical force. A dog able to pressure animals that have horns and can kick won’t be impressed with a flimsy correction, and loses interest in an owner who comes down hard.

Someone who is controller instead of collaborator, overpowers instead of outsmarts, and believes that an hour-long leash walk sandwiched between the office and taking the kids to piano practice is enough stimulation, is ill-matched with a herding dog - any herding dog, but Australian shepherds have an extra quirk I love so much, but can present an additional hurdle for a stern Type A human personality.

Even when on the job, an Aussie likes to put his own spin on things. They are masters in self-amusement. I would have given a month pay for being able to enter Davie’s brain when she, unprompted, charged straight into a flock of perfectly organized sheep. Out of boredom, grinning I swear, she scattered them, just to round them up again. Our herding clinic instructor called it Aussie-bowling, cause only Aussies do it.

They are not willful, but often lack the seriousness of other herding breeds, are the jesters of them all, are creatively obedient. When teamed with a person who doesn’t have a sense of humor, the relationship easily slides in the ditch, and incompatible teams are more common than one might think cause Aussies are darn good looking. If you take one for a stroll you’ll magnetically attract the attention of passersby. People stare, inquire, google, and then get one. All kinds of people, including the dog inexperienced, mentally and physically retired, and busy-with-other-stuff ones.

So, what can one do with a bossy and busy canine joker when there are no sheep to be organized, and when time is limited?

Any kind of dog sport will do. All herding breeds are excellent candidates for agility, Rally O’ and Freestyle dance, but there are other, less obvious activities that can help to turn an initially mismatched relationship into a mutually rewarding one.

For example people gathering. If there are several members in your family, have your pooch wake each one in the morning, and maybe even teach him to usher the individual to the breakfast table.

Instead of shouting for your partner or child, let your four-pawed Pan relay information with a note tied to his collar.

On off leash walks, spread out on purpose and allow your herder to regroup everyone. Herding humans isn’t the problem, nipping them is, but with a little training your pooch will learn space balance.

Herding dogs love toys. Scatter his stuff throughout the house and make it his task to collect them all, placing them on a mat, or in his toy box. Every Aussie or collie loves to chase after a ball. I swear our Davie was born with one in her mouth, and she fetched and released into our hands at 18 weeks of age, without any training. Your Border collie might not bring the ball all the way in, but likely tosses it in your direction and instantly runs out to where he expects it to land again.

Job creation is paramount for your herding dog, and equally important is, while keeping the Aussie’s comic nature in mind, that he understands that a task is something you facilitate, and not sporadic, self-generated entertainment. That is what commands are for. Don’t just throw the ball, tell him to “fetch” it. Don’t just let him trudge behind you, tell him “let’s go”. If you have a mailbox at the end of your driveway, send your pooch ahead with a “mail” command and then have him carry it in the house.

On hikes, teach him to “jump” over logs or across a brook, “balance” on a sidewalk curb, “up” on a park bench and “weave” around trees that stand close together. Davie learned to “pick” her own Saskatoon berries when they were in season. None of that takes a lot of extra time, but increases attention, obedience and the bond between you, and challenges your dog’s mind and body, important for most any dog, but vital for the innately busy ones.

Herding dogs are sometimes labeled dominant, hyper, stubborn and, wow, even untrainable. Nonsense! They are just inexhaustibly looking for a job, and seeking information from their person how to do it properly. When they get that, the inherently controlling pooch doesn’t get out-of-control, and his intense drive won’t turn into obsession or aggression.