Many dog owners ask why the occasional house-training breech of etiquette continues to occur. Many lament, “He did it because he’s mad at me!” Let’s get it straight; there is no such thing as revenge pooping or peeing. In fact, dogs are proud of their elimination achievements. They don’t think it’s gross and disgusting, so why would they use it in vengeance? I suspect dogs consider pooping to be an art form.
Imagine the anthropomorphic picture we are creating around household accidents. You are absent long hours, so you envision Scruffy thinking, “Gee, they left me home alone again. This really makes me mad! What can I do to inform those ungrateful humans of my disenchantment? I’ve got it! In an effort to disgust them, I’ll deposit some malodorous poop dead center on the new, luxurious area rug. I’m sure they won’t appreciate that little surprise package. They must learn that leaving me alone has a heavy penalty!” With the possible exception of one Border Collie I know, it’s not likely that dogs have the capacity for such rational thought.
“Rubbing a dog’s nose in it” is another punishment myth I’d like to eliminate (pun intended) straight away. You’ve just been informed that dogs are proud of their biological accomplishments, so don’t you think they might actually enjoy having their noses rubbed in it? Some dogs even eat poop. I would suggest that the act of rubbing a dog’s nose in it, perhaps, facilitates their pleasure.
Anthropomorphism is amusing and even useful at times in exposing the absurdities of our thinking. For instance, do you suppose that our dogs question why we don’t rub the baby’s nose in his soiled diaper?
Living with three male dogs is not a lifestyle I’d recommend to anyone wishing to retain any shred of sanity. Case in point: the confusion between housetraining and marking of territory. In my household there’s an abundance of representative chest beating that occurs. To date, the biggest mystery is why Mr. MoJo has a penchant for marking major appliances. The recurring ritual watering of the refrigerator, dishwasher and/or washing machine defies theoretical or scientific explanation.
With the possible exception of marking territory, or what I refer to as the canine version of graffiti, housetraining is uncomplicated. Let’s cut the crap (another pun intended), dispose of the myths and get down to the business of reliably housetraining our dogs.

Among dogs, jumping up and sniffing butts are social greetings. In light of that fact, I’m forever grateful that human social etiquette entails a simple handshake. I did meet one person to whom this rule did not seem to apply. And, it all happened on live TV!
I was doing a promotional television interview on a local morning news show. The reporter was an unreserved, exceedingly animated fellow, the human equivalent of a 5-month-old Labrador puppy on a caffeine overdose. We were doing several live feeds over a 3-hour period. Before each feed, we’d talk briefly about the question that would be asked and I’d plan my expert answer. I was quite proud, maybe even a bit cocky, feeling that I’d presented myself like a leading authority on dog behavior. I hadn’t done much live TV and had nightmares the previous night about making some terrible gaffe, looking like a colossal idiot.
The reporter, whose name was Dan, inquired about training dogs not to jump up on people. Then the cameraman counted down in preparation to go live for our last feed. 5-4-3-2-1, and he points as he rolls the camera. Dan began his talk with a hypothetical situation about dogs that jump up. He asserted how annoying and embarrassing an out-of-control dog can be.
He said, “It would be like if I saw you on the street and…” Then, as I looked into his eyes, just like looking into a young pup’s eyes, I could see what was about to happen. In horror, I thought, “Oh no, he’s not really going to…” Then on live TV, in front of God and my mother, this man lunged toward me and proceeded to drape himself over me!
When the camera cut, I collected myself and said to him, “You don’t know how close you came to getting my knee in your chest (or a lower area of the anatomy)! I’d never do that to a dog, but I’m not that forgiving with humans!”
Given the choice, I’d rather be jumped on by a sixty-four puppies with muddy paws than one overzealous TV reporter. And thanks to Dan, for not making me look like a colossal idiot!

A Buddhist proverb says that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. My dogs are the teachers that came to me and I am a humble student of Bob the dog. He has taught me volumes about barking. Bob, (his full name is Bob Barker) is the reporter of the family. The Barker Reports include notice of passers by, trash collection, neighbors arriving home, lurking wildlife and the voices in his head. If he would give the weather, I could cancel my cable TV subscription.
Bells of any variety are Bob’s cue to sound off. Phones in particular are his call to action. Like children, my dogs feel the need to act out and vocalize during telephone conversations. It’s a dog trainer’s worst nightmare to have barking dogs in the background throughout a phone consultation with a client. I’m sure I’d experience many a vote of no-confidence and a quick hang-up if I turned from the phone to scream, “Shut up! I’m tryin’ to talk here!” I swear those dogs could be lying on their sides on the kitchen floor for 6 hours straight with nary a peep but, just let the phone ring…
Perhaps my dogs’ barking is a conspiracy. I’ll bet they check the caller ID in the other room before deciding whether to bark. I can hear MoJo saying, “No, Bob. It’s not a client. Don’t bother getting up.”
It seems that the act of my sitting down at the computer is also a nod to Bob for another report. “Barking Dog Productions”, a division of my business offering graphic design for dog trainers is named for my dogs. Whether I’m writing or designing at the computer, my dogs take their cue to bark. You guessed it. They’re barking right now!
Then there’s my German Shepherd Dog, Jude. He acquired his name because he happens to be one of those overly dramatic shepherds that whine a lot. Jude…we always have to take his sad song and make it better.
Jude gives Bob Barker a run for his barking money when in the back yard. Jude has learned the consequence of his excess barking is a time-out. When he’s in the yard barking his fool head off, I call him into the house. After enough times out, all I have to do is show up at the back door… he’s already on his way in with his head hung low. I don’t have to call him anymore. It’s as if he’s saying, “What was I thinking? I need a time out”. His self-imposed times-out save me a lot of breath and leave me in awe at the intelligence of a dog whose favorite pastime next to barking is watching the toilet flush!