Merit Dog Project

21/05/2026

❌Approaching is not an invitation. ❌Sniffing is not an invitation. ❌Looking is not an invitation.

Those things might mean:

❓Curiosity.
⚠️Information-gathering.
👀Uncertainty.

They might mean, “I need to know more about what is happening here.” But they are not, on their own, a clear yes.

Humans often interpret a dog’s proximity as permission. They walked over, so they must want to interact. They sniffed our hand so they must be fine. They looked at us, our dog, or a situation, so they must be interested.

Maybe.

Or maybe they are assessing risk. Maybe they are conflicted. Maybe they are trying to gather enough information to decide whether to move closer or move away. Or, if they are like Juno, they are sniffing to see if you have food to share!

Assent can be distinctly clear:
☺️Voluntary, relaxed, repeated engagement.
🥰A dog who can move away and chooses to come back.
😁Soft body language, loose movement, and the ability to disengage without being followed, blocked, pressured, or pulled back in.
😍Re-engagement after a pause.
🐶A dog who is not just tolerating the interaction, but actively participating in it.

And even then, assent is not static. It can change. A yes can become a maybe. A maybe can become a no. A dog who was comfortable five seconds ago may not be comfortable now.

Anything unclear should be treated as, at best, a maybe; not as permission. A pause is information. A freeze is information. A tucked tail, a head turn, a lip lick, a lowered body, a sudden stillness, a harder stare, or a choice to move away are all information.

If we want dogs to use quiet communication, we have to make quiet communication work. That means noticing the maybe, respecting the pause, and honouring the no before it has to become louder with all dogs, always. Because assent is the clear presence of willing participation.

20/05/2026

Juno told another dog off yesterday. And I was okay with it.

Not because I want her yelling at other dogs. Not because I think dogs should be left to “sort it out.” And definitely not because loud communication is ideal. But because she absolutely can hold boundaries.

As we were walking along the path, a dog ran over to her and stopped with his nose millimetres from her face. He lingered there, rigid and close. Juno tried to say no with her body. She tried the polite, quiet, socially appropriate versions of “please stop.” She is really good at communicating. She even tried to walk away, but he followed. So eventually, she turned to him and yelled.

The dog still did not leave, and his person was repeatedly and sternly calling his name, which Juno finds stressful. You could see the panic coming over her face and she yelled again. When the person got close enough, the dog finally moved away.

First, I do not think either dog was “wrong.” The other dog was likely doing the best he could with the skills, history, arousal, and context available to him in that moment. Juno was doing the same. It was a conversation. It got loud, but it was still communication. This is also not a post about the other human.

But look, as a behaviour professional, I am not interested in having a dog who simply suppresses her behaviour because she is afraid of consequences. I do not want a dog who has learned that saying no is unsafe. I do not want a dog who silently endures discomfort because humans have decided that “calm” is the only acceptable response.

Calm behaviour is lovely when it reflects genuine safety, skill, and confidence.

But behavioural suppression is not the same thing as emotional regulation. Silence is not always coping. Stillness is not always assent. And a dog who never says no is not necessarily a dog who feels okay.

Most of the time, Juno does not need to yell because her quieter signals work. She has learned that she is allowed to create space. She has learned that her communication matters. She has learned that saying no is available to her. That does not mean she will never escalate. It means escalation is not her go-to.

And yes, if loud, intense, or aggressive-looking behaviours are happening frequently, regularly, or pre-emptively, we should absolutely step in. If a dog is shouting at the mere sight of another dog, that dog needs support. Not so we can simply “stop the behaviour,” but so we can understand what the behaviour is telling us. Does this dog feel unsafe? Are they overwhelmed? Are they frustrated by being on lead? Are they struggling with proximity, pressure, or uncertainty? Do they need more distance, more support, or more skills for navigating the world around them?

The goal should never be to silence dogs. It's to help them feel safer, communicate more effectively, build confidence, and avoid being repeatedly pushed past what they can manage. And very often, when we do that well, the loud behaviour decreases.

(Side note: quiet does not automatically mean okay, either. A dog who cowers, tucks their tail, freezes, avoids, or tries to escape is communicating too. They may not be “making a scene,” but they are still telling us something important. Loud dogs are not the only dogs who need support.)

So, all this to say, when Juno got loud yesterday, I saw a dog who had tried several quieter ways to negotiate a situation. Of course, I would rather the situation had been interrupted earlier. I would rather she had not needed to escalate. I would rather the other dog had been supported before he ended up in her face for too long. But I am not upset with Juno for setting a boundary. Dogs are allowed to have boundaries. They are allowed to say, “too close.” They are allowed to say, “please stop.”

And when those softer signals are missed or ignored, sometimes they are allowed to say it louder.

(Photo of Juno and friend Percy, enjoying at afternoon at the beach)

18/05/2026

Things have been a little quiet here lately, and I wanted to acknowledge that!

After submitting the final draft of my book, I really needed a bit of a breather. The last stretch has been intense. Plus, I have been simultaneously preparing my talk for the Purina Institute Global Summit in Switzerland, and working on the next issue of the IAABC Foundation Journal (among other things). It has all been exciting, but it has also taken up a lot of brain space.

So, I needed to step back, catch up on the less glamorous parts of life and work, and remember what it feels like to think about something other than sentences and references and deadlines.

But the exciting news is that the book is now officially in production and is due to be published later in 2026!!!

I’m finally starting to regain some headspace now, and I have some exciting educational opportunities to announce to you all, soon. Thank you for sticking around while things have been quiet. More soon...

Cover design may change slightly on publication. Cover photo by the very talented Shannon Johnstone from her project Landfill Dogs https://landfilldogs.com/about/

07/05/2026

This event is only a few weeks away, and virtual attendance is FREE!

It will be live-streamed and recorded, and I’m delighted to be speaking alongside some incredible industry professionals about proactive care and the human-animal connection.

Save your seat ⤵️

https://globalsummit2026.purinainstitute.com/?utm_campaign=pin-events2026&utm_medium=email&utm_source=pi_kol&utm_content=cr-2026_pi_global_summit_kol_invite_pt-na&utm_term=

29/04/2026

Walking past another dog is never just that. It's a decision, often made with incomplete information, about shifting distance, changing arousal, and at least two dogs whose needs may not align.

When I walk with Juno, my responsibility is to read the conditions in front of us and make decisions that protect her safety, support her confidence, and respect the other dog(s) as an individual too.

Some passes are relatively straightforward:

🐶A dog who is already on lead, or whose human sees us and calmly leashes them, gives me useful information immediately. The lead is not the whole story, of course, but it changes the conditions. It tells me the human has noticed us and understands that their dog’s behaviour matters in a shared space.

🐾A human wearing a treat pouch is not a guarantee of competence, but it often tells me something similar. Leash or no leash, when the dog is engaged with that human, moving with them, responding to cues, taking food, or showing a pattern of orienting back, there is usually some reinforcement history in place for the dog and the human. There are probably skills. There is at least some acknowledgement that the dog’s behaviour is being actively supported rather than left to unfold around everyone else. I am also more likely to trust their decision if they choose to not leash their dog.

🐕Another easier pass is a dog engaged in something that appears to be highly reinforcing and currently organising their behaviour. Fetch can fall into this category. A dog who is strongly oriented toward the ball, the thrower, and the next repetition of the game may be less likely to allocate behaviour toward us. Note, this doesn't automatically make it safer, either. High arousal, resource focus, frustration, and sudden changes in direction can alter the picture.

🐶Dogs moving slowly and mindfully can also be easier to pass directly. A dog who notices us, remains soft, continues at their own pace, and shows no intention of closing the distance is different from a dog scanning, loading, accelerating, or orienting directly toward Juno.

🐾Similarly, dogs who notice us but seem disinterested or avoidant are generally a safer bet for us, though we want to be mindful of how they are feeling about our proximity.

Then there are the passes that can be fine but require more careful monitoring:

🐩A dog wandering and sniffing may also be engaged in something reinforcing, notice us, and go back to their activity. Often that's a cue for me that we are good to go, but mindfully. The value of that activity and the value of our presenece may shift as we approach to pass. Reinforcement value is not fixed and behavioural allocation changes as the environment changes. So, our presence may become more salient, more interesting, or more concerning as distance decreases.

🐶A dog on a long line often gets extra space from us. They may be learning. Their human may be deliberately balancing freedom with safety. Passing too closely can interfere with that. It can make us unnecessarily salient and change the conditions for a dog who may be working on disengagement, confidence, movement, regulation, or simply existing in public without being overwhelmed. The amount of space depends on what the situation is asking for.

And then there are the situations I avoid.

🐕If the human is repeatedly yelling “no” or calling the dog’s name, I create distance.

🐩If the dog is running up to other dogs and the human is not paying attention of how that is being receieved, I create distance.

🐶If the dog is loose, highly interested in us, and the human is on their phone or nowhere in sight, I create distance.

🐾If the dog stares, freezes, stalks, accelerates, rushes, or moves directly toward us with intensity, I do not wait to see whether things will improve. Juno does not need to become part of that experiment.

🐕If a dog is on a retractable leash, it's hard for me to evaluate the safe-zone distance. There are a few exceptions I will make depending on the dog.

🐶I also move away when the other dog is clearly struggling with our presence. That part matters. Creating space is not only about protecting Juno; it's also about recognising that another dog may need distance from us. If our proximity is making their situation harder, then moving away is the appropriate thing to do.

Sharing space with other dogs and humans is about the ability to read the whole scene. The lead matters. The human matters. The available space matters. The path width matters. The dog’s current reinforcement landscape matters. The dog’s body language matters. Juno’s body language matters. Distance matters because distance changes value, emotion, and behavioural probability.

Walking thoughtfully with a dog means knowing when to pass, when to pause, when to arc away, when to cross the road, when to turn around, and when to give another dog the space they are asking for.

28/04/2026

We manage nearly every aspect of our dogs' lives, often without fully recognising it.

We tell them what to do, how and when to do it, and when not to.

In reality, it’s simply the nature of how dog-human relationships are structured. But when we over-manage without reflection, we risk reducing dogs to passengers in their own lives. Where they are expected to follow without question, rather than flourish with skill and confidence.

That doesn’t mean training isn’t important. In fact, it’s the opposite. Skill building is vital!

Our dogs live much more reactively than we do: they respond to what is immediate, exciting, threatening, or overwhelming. They don't naturally think about how their actions today will impact tomorrow.

But we do.

We have the foresight to recognise the challenges they will face. The strangers they'll encounter, the cyclists they'll pass, the noises they'll hear.

And because we can anticipate those pressures, it’s our responsibility to teach them the skills they need to navigate them in order to help them move through the world more safely and confidently.

For example, teaching a dog an alternative to barking at a stranger isn't just about making life quieter. It's about making life better. About giving them a way to react that leads to connection instead of conflict, and freedom instead of fallout.

Skill building is about preparing dogs to meet the world on terms that respect both their nature and the realities of the environments we place them in. It’s about giving them choices they can succeed with, not trapping them between impulse and punishment.

And it’s precisely because we have that foresigh that we carry the responsibility to teach them better options, not to suppress who they are.

Skill building, therefore, should focus on giving dogs the tools to move through the world with more freedom, more agency, and more safety. For their benefit, not just ours.

27/04/2026

Grateful to have spent the weekend at the IAABC Foundation conference in Burlington, Vermont.

It was a chance to connect with colleagues, students, and friends, and to engage with work that continues to push how we think about behaviour, nonhuman animals, and our relationships with them.

I had the opportunity to speak on two topics I care deeply about, and to learn from others whose perspectives challenged and expanded my own.

What stands out most is the quality of the community. Thoughtful, critical, collaborative, and genuinely committed to doing better for nonhuman animals.

The IAABC Foundation continues to do something rare and wonderful in this space and I'm grateful to be a part of it!

25/04/2026

Yup!

Dogs have amazing abilities. Many that are far, FAR superior to ours. That means they experience their world, gather information, and use it in different ways to us. So just because they are different to us should never ever lead you to believe humans are better.

🎨 Extra Ordinary Comics