Tossing "Permissive" From My Vocabulary: Living Respectfully With Adult Dogs

Positive Isn’t Permissive!

I have probably seen a hundred beautiful info-graphics with this phrase splashed across the top, along with a vivid picture of a well-trained dog heeling or doing a down-stay. I have certainly shared a couple, in my time. Heck, I lived that credo when I first started training dogs.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I understand why those dog trainers (like myself) who use positive reinforcement to change a dog’s behaviour would say this. Some trainers who use shock collars, yelling, slapping, and other worrisome techniques have crafted a dog training narrative that assigns everyone to two distinct camps: one camp is their domain, a domain in which all dogs’ necks are bedecked with multiple types of ‘training collars’. The dogs in this camp spend a lot of time laying at their masters’ feet in obsequious obedience. And then there is the other camp, populated by ‘out of control’ dogs who show how unhappy they are without a firm leader by jumping up, never responding to cues, and so on. Dog biscuits are thrown at all dogs willy-nilly, no matter what they do.

This is what’s known as a false dichotomy, by the by. Those are not the only two camps, and in fact the premise of the second camp—that dogs need a firm leader—probably isn’t even true. Many trainers who use aversive stimuli are incompetent trainers, so can’t get a dog to change their behaviour no matter what (outside of, perhaps, the wary, cautiously still, and fearful state achieved when a dog is subjected to a lot of unclear punishment). And many positive reinforcement trainers are superb, training up dog after dog after dog to perform anything that the other camp’s dogs can, with the added benefit of the dog actually enjoying it.

But although I understand where we are going with the Positive Isn’t Permissive messaging—positive-only dog trainers can absolutely get the training job done—I have come to ponder our very use of the idea “permissive”. What does permissive even mean, for our dogs? According to the Collins Dictionary, permissive means:

habitually or characteristically accepting or tolerant of something, as social behavior or linguistic usage, that others might disapprove or forbid.

What kind of dog behaviours come to mind when we hear the old-time trainers mutter “permissive”? What are they disapproving of; what do they forbid? I think of my dogs, lolling on my couch or snoring on my bed. Is permission for this mine to give? I think of my dogs, playing with gusto inside our home. I think of my dogs, rolling on some scent on the ground, humping each other during play, wading into the swamp, tearing a paper bag into tiny, satisfying strips, running out the dog door to chase squirrels, dismembering a dog toy, guarding a ball, stopping to sniff something on our leash walks, running loudly to the gate to greet visitors, investigating the bags of groceries I put on the floor…I think of my dogs, as adult animals, choosing to do things that bring them joy.

Standing by idly as my dogs do these doggish things would probably earn me the stamp of ‘permissive’. I would be tut-tutted as the prime example of what happens when a dog isn’t schooled.

But hold on just a minute. If my dogs are not doing harm, why do I (and certainly why does another trainer) get to choose what, where, and how my dog, an adult animal with motivations, desires, and needs of their own, is permitted to do, to be, and to interact with their environment? I think we are past the time when we need to kowtow to the restrictive and harmful version of dog ownership wrought in dog training manuals from the 1950s, no matter how much more kindly we achieve the end point. We used to have to show that we were just as good, just as ready, and just as firm. Our dogs were just as obedient, heck, our dogs were more obedient! We’ve reached this point, I hope, and we’ve opened up some space to say…hey. We can set our own goals, and we can respect our dog’s goals. We aren’t our dogs’ masters, we’re our dogs’ friends. Beyond the needs of physical and emotional safety, permission isn’t ours to give.

Quite nicely, this quiet revolution can also apply to ourselves, as the humans in the equation. For example, I love playing in a rough-and-tumble way with those dogs who also enjoy it. When it comes to our dogs, we should enable and increase their joy and freedom, and share, most permissively, in it.