How Jakesoolly taught me to assert my position as Alpha

[IamLEAM1983]

I know. Weird-ass title, but it fits. You'll see.

See, one of the few reasons as to why I haven't been able to stick around for our evening chats is the fact that the dog has been an absolute hellion. He calms down in the wee hours of the night, but he otherwise spends every waking moment being a domineering and aggressive little shit. I say that, of course, knowing that I still love him to bits. You know how our loved ones can drive us crazy, sometimes...

Well, I thought back on Avatar and how Jake tamed his Banshee, and decided to check if there were real-world correlations. Turns out, puppies associate pressure around their necks as being a sign of discipline - far moreso than what we were trying, which was to lift him by the scruff of his neck. So I spent the morning waiting for his now signature "I wanna play but I'm gonna be an asshole about it" moment (which usually comes around 11:45 AM, like clockwork), and once it started, I literally pounced.

My hand went to his neck, while my other hand pushed down on his hips. Once he was on his side, I let up pressure on his hips and made sure to only restrict his movements, not his ability to breathe. As expected, he spent the first five minutes yelping, whining, growling and thrashing, throwing his paws at my face and flashing his widdle teeth at me in an attempt to have me let go. He gave me a few good welts along the arms - stupid puppy claws - but I didn't let go.

It worked.

It took fifteen minutes, but it worked. Mom's, well, very maternal about it, so things almost devolved to a shouting contest between us. Thing is, I'm the one who found out that tough love doesn't cut it. I kept at it. Just as Mom was about to tear my hand off of Romeo's throat, he subsided. He went completely limp, but I could tell he'd never stopped being able to breathe fine. We exchanged a look, and I saw something new in the little runt's eyes.

Usually, he looks at me and nonverbally goes "Haha, I'm gonna drive you up the wall by running all over the place, biting your shins and barking all fucking afternoon, and you'll just have to run after me! Wheee!". Well, the new look was markedly different. What I was seeing in his slackened posture and eyes was something akin to "Oh holy shit, I fucked up real bad... Here I was thinking I was the Alpha! I'm terribly sorry; I get it now. You're the boss."

I let go, expecting the worst. Something like him springing to his feet and resuming his happy bark and bite-a-thon. Instead, he gave me a look that carried equal parts fear and a new kind of respect, and trotted off. Twenty seconds later, he was back - but he didn't bite. He went down on the ground next to me, calmer than he's ever been at this hour in all of a month of us having him. He's been following me around the house, but even though I haven't associated punishment with attempts to bite the hem of my pants or my shins, he's just following along - that new look firmly affixed on his face.

I know, it's only been a couple hours and this doesn't guarantee anything, but we've been playing and he's been systematically avoiding my hands. He'll try and bite at whatever we've determined to be okay, like his toys; but my hands, my arms? No more. I'm crossing my fingers, folks. I'm tired as Hell of going to bed with my formerly paranoid immune system mounting up a tiny histamine reaction to all the scratches and bite marks that line my forearms and hands.

As to the Avatar comparison, that's because the look the puppy gave me felt unusually meaningful from him. There was startled realization in there, and the sense that he was seeing me under a different light. I didn't say a word and neither did he, our breaths being almost in sync, and that was it. Message received. He understood I wasn't trying to hurt him, but that he'd been wrong about things.

Whiskey was already two years old when we picked him up. His cranium was full to the brim with notions that felt pre-installed for us. Where to poop, where to pee, how not biting other people is important, the general limitations of acceptable canine behaviour as defined by humans... We just adapted ourselves to that. Romeo, however, is a blank slate. All he knows is what his instincts tell him. I knew we'd have to train him, but I didn't quite anticipate the new sense of connection this would bring. Whiskey was perfect from Day One, so the emotional connection was instant. Romeo, however, is someone I've downright hated at times over the last few weeks.

Holding him down, though? Something changed, there. I'm sensing respect, and it's gotten easier for me to give him that same respect in return. Plus, I'm pretty much a Beta by nature. I'm not the "boss" type. I give in to pressure instead of bucking against it. I like writing fairly iron-willed characters because this feels pretty much opposed to my own behavioural scheme, but I've never been one to take charge a whole damn lot. Fuck, I remember my first few times as a copy editor on-campus requiring me to figure out that yes, it's sometimes okay to be blunt with other people.

Dogs are nothing if not blunt. They've got zero subtlety, so you have to throw all of it out the window too.

My parents are borderline serious devotees of the Cesar Millan school of thought. Energy, assertive behaviour, all that jazz. Seeing the guy work, I'm realizing that Mom's thinking that mimicking Millan's techniques won't necessarily work. Sometimes, a firm hand is what's required. The gist of it works, though. Not necessarily in the specfics of it all - but mostly how I've been acting like a doormat when I shouldn't.

Dog owners like Karl probably won't be impressed, but Romeo being my first puppy ever; I can safely say this feels transformative.

It's a pretty big step, both for him and for me.

[Karl the Mad]

Good job, Alpha Charlie. Your next test is to subdue a mountain lion!

BTW I wouldn't call myself a dog owner. I'm not especially fond of most of the dogs I've met in the past five years or so.

[IamLEAM1983]

Bring it on. I've even got the perfect soundtrack for my "getting prepped up" montage.

[Arrow]

Yup, you did exactly what an alpha should do. Forcing him to expose his belly to you is also a sign of dominance. When my parent's dog gets nippy I hold him down like that too just to make sure he knows I mean business.