It happened in a hardware store. My Great Pyrenees puppy, Mosey, was 6 months old, had been there several times and had always been comfortable with unfamiliar dogs. But this time he barked — a big, scary bark — at a golden retriever at the end of the aisle minding its own business. And thus, we started down the road of reactivity training.

Related Articles

Most guardians who come to see me for dog reactivity — a term we use to describe barking, lunging, growling, jumping, etc. at someone or something that’s out of line with the threat posed by the thing — were similarly caught off guard. Their formerly social puppy became a menace on the trails, usually between 6 and 18 months. They were caught in a cycle of hiding behind cars and embarrassingly saying, “He’s really very sweet, and he’s always loved dogs!”

We see a lot of these dogs of all breeds, sizes and temperaments and their guardians. I reinforce for the humans that they’re not alone, because it can feel painfully lonely when you can’t do the things you hoped and dreamed of doing with your dog. Friendly but misguided people telling them to “just show the dog who’s boss” or the less understanding who shout, “Train your dog!” deepen the worry and the hurt.

I like to offer knowledge (why is my dog barking and lunging at other dogs?), realistic goal-setting (what situations are comfortable for my dog? For me?), a path forward (what do I do next time we see a dog?) and skill practice (private training sessions with a “helper” dog).

The beautiful, hopeful result that I so often see is a guardian understanding their dog’s needs better, building a universe that feels safe to the dog and confidently helping their dog through episodes that were previously scary for everyone. I’ve had people break into tearful smiles when they hear that their dog isn’t “bad” or “aggressive” but rather scared, frustrated or sensitive.

To be clear, there’s no magic bullet, no quick fix. Behavior modification training is hard work, and progress is seldom linear: We may see a burst of improvement, then some backsliding, a tough day or week in the mix, and more improvement. Often the human drive to push is at odds with what the dog is ready for; we are training sentient beings with big emotions.

As with all of Marin Humane’s behavior and training classes and programs, we use a positive-reinforcement approach to reactivity training: We teach the human how to read the dog better (what does that tail wag really mean?) and teach the dog what to do instead of barking and lunging (look at the handler, sniff the ground and turn away from the other dog). We practice at a distance that’s comfortable for the dog and include plenty of rewards to teach them that things they previously barked and lunged at are not so scary or overwhelming. There’s no one-size-fits-all method, and private training gives the trainer and guardian the opportunity to experiment, see what’s effective for the dog in front of us and practical for the handler, and customize our training plan.

As many guardians point out, we’re really training the human end of the leash. What I most love to see is a guardian who has found compassion instead of frustration with their dog, and a dog  is that is more at peace in the world.

To learn more about dog training at Marin Humane, visit marinhumane.org/oh-behave.

Marisa Walker, a certified dog trainer and certified separation anxiety trainer, is the companion dog program supervisor at Marin Humane, which contributes Tails of Marin and welcomes questions and comments from the community. Visit marinhumane.org, find us on social media @marinhumane, or email [email protected]