08/25/2026
The importance of relaxed hands
One of the observations my clients are often perplexed by is why a dog instantly behaves better when I take its leash. What kind of voodoo magic do I possess to make this shift happen so suddenly, and why are they not able to take the leash back and achieve the same result?
The answer is super simple: clarity in communication.
This communication is not purely verbal. It does matter what intonation, duration, and frequency are used to give the command; but it matters much more what you do with your whole body in general, and with the hands that are holding the leash in particular.
Are you clenching it and tugging on it? Most people do.
Are you tensing up in your shoulders in anticipation of lunging? Most people do.
Are you repeating your “sit” seventeen times in a row? Most people do.
Are you feeling helpless and backing off when the dog decides to brush the command off? Most people do.
The core reason for these communication problems is that people believe they cannot relax until the dog is reliable enough to allow for that.
It would have made sense, except for one little thing: the dog will not let you relax if it does not see what your relaxing looks like.
That is, all the dog sees is tension in your body, panic in your verbal expressions, hecticness in your reward events, and, quite often, lack of consequences for unwanted behaviour.
In a dog's eyes, that becomes the default picture of you.
Therefore, it is absolutely unclear to a poor dog why you are always unhappy about something.
When I take the leash, I hold it in a way the dog barely notices. My shoulders and hands are relaxed. My pace is confident and brisk — typical for myself. My voice is calm, and my commands are only given once.
I give the dog a chance to perform the command and help only if appropriate. I am genuine and exuberant with my praise and reward. I am neutral and emotionless with the punishment event.
I make things easy for the dog to understand, and I always show the dog a picture of me — standing tall, moving confidently, talking sparingly, rewarding heartily — which I want it to understand as the default.
This understanding, in turn, leads to the realization that if, for some reason, I have to change something about how my body moves or is positioned in space, it means that the dog needs to adjust — either move slower, sit down, or run — so that I can return to my normal self.
This clear picture of what your relaxing looks like — the ultimate goal — is what the dog needs to see.
And this needs to happen BEFORE the dog is “trained.”
In fact, it needs to happen before the training even starts.
Because any training begins with the realization of the end goal, which, ultimately, is you being happy and relaxed when being with your dog.
