Ten ways my dogs have taught me how to be a better human

I have spent my life being obsessed with dogs. My parents will tell you this started when I was around two years old, so that is 41 years of thinking about and feeling that dogs are the most incredible creatures to walk this world.

I truly believe that it’s a gift to live with a dog, not a nice-to-have. It is this way of thinking that has created the very foundation of the way that I work with my clients, on TV with families and when writing my books.

I know how much your dog means to you, as mine means the world to me and my family. It’s why I get so upset, frustrated and angry with the dog trainer brigade who are constantly shouting at, yanking their dog and telling the world that we need to show our pets who the top dog really is.

Studies on the dog and human relationships always focus on what humans get out of it, which I have always found tricky. Any good relationship is two-sided and not only has the dog I’ve lived with or worked with changed me forever but I’ve also changed that dog’s life in some way too.

We choose which dog we bring into homes, how we interact with and treat them – our poor dogs having absolutely no say on this. They don’t choose the house they land in, the owners they have or the way they are treated. When you think of it like this, I’m amazed at how well dogs have adapted and it’s why I’ve created a puppy book to help owners wherever they are in their puppy journey – from eight weeks to 18 months.

During these early years, it isn’t plain sailing, you are communicating, misreading and misunderstanding another species. There is no such thing as the perfect puppy, just as there is no such thing as the perfect child; patience and understanding is required for this relationship to work. And when it works well it is wonderful.

I want new dog owners to understand that this will be one of the most gentle two-way relationships they will ever have. I’ve spent decades learning from the very, very best dogs. As the saying goes ‘dogs do speak, but only to those who listen’ and I am fully on board with what they have to tell me.

From Wood Green Animal Shelter, as a small child how I loved this black Lab with his big dark eyes, his chunky padding paws. I can still sob at the thought of saying goodbye to him, his heavy tail beating on the tiles of the kitchen floor as I came into the room.

Gus belonged to neighbours in our village and even thought I was only at Primary school, I was allowed to walk him, to train him and be responsible for him. Gus taught me about play and how small things could bring so much joy. A ball and a paddling pool was heaven to us both. He taught me that playing was the fastest way to create an unshakeable love, to build bonds - because he wanted to be with me, he wanted to hang out, he wanted to go where I went. That, I now realise, is at the very heart of everything I do. I still have his collar tag framed, that is how powerful those relationships are.

These two sisters were from the same breeder and yet looked and behaved completely differently. Toffee was the looney tune Field Spaniel who needed to work (that is what they are designed to do) and Fudgie was the sweetest, angel who just wanted to be touched and sit by your side. I spent so much time as a teenager walking them and taking them to the river. They taught me that we can have traits that we share, but we are still individuals with our own personality and ways. This isn’t something to hide, its by embracing the difference that makes us thrive.

The first dog that my husband and I shared. She was everything and more. Even as I sit writing this, I’m in tears. She was our first born, the one who showed us how to be responsible. And in return, we protected her, taught her hand signals, made her a part of our family and she adored being that dog who rode shotgun in the front of my old VW Mk1 convertible. Her deafness made her vulnerable and she went through a period of withdrawal from the world when her hearing fully went. I learnt new ways to help her, to bring her back into the world and how to use eye contact as the foundation of everything I do with other dogs. Because without it, it makes life so much harder for us all.

He came to us after a child had kicked him and he had gone to retaliate. When he arrived he pulled the door frame off the door, would attack men’s feet and humped my leg to such an extent it hurt because he’d dig in his chunky claws.

But Barney became the most determined, happy, fit-as-a-fiddle boy you could meet. He thrived when I worked out how to give him the direction he needed, how to get him the exercise he required and how to feed him in a way that didn’t ignite any skin issues. Loving and loyal, within a couple of months he’d lost the humping and destroying doors habits and adored our children and my sister’s children. I gave him the space, the outlets, the right toys and the ability to shine and he most definitely did.

We took Fred on from a rescue, with not much of an idea about his age. He had four owners before he arrived in east London to live with us and weighed 65 kilos. He pulled my poor mum over and used to buck up like a rodeo horse when he saw other dogs. People used to cross the road when they saw him!  But he showed me what can be achieved when you take the time to understand a dog, the patience to figure out their little ways. I started to understand what motivated him, what made him tick and what made him happy.

He would sleep on the children’s beds when they were reading, his tail would hit my 2-year-old in the face and I would have to shout out “go to the wall” when he chose to run in the house so they didn’t get knocked over! I gave Fred warmth, security and so much love and he showed me he understood by the way he rested on me, sought me out, loved me and more. We only had Fred for 2.5 years as one day playing together in the park, he ran towards me and suddenly collapsed and died, it was immediate for him. Utterly heartbreaking for me.

Henry was found during the riots in Dalston in East London. I lived nearby and was asked by the Council to help him, or he would need to be put to sleep. I fostered Henry for six months, it was both the longest and most wonderful six months of my life. I adored that boy, but I also soon realised he was not designed for London, he needed to run like a gazelle, he needed space and freedom to be able to listen and to learn.

I have never been so tired than during that period, as I tried to meet his mental and physical needs. He would need three proper walks per day for mental stimulation and a play and a run; most of all he needed to have his energy channelled so it didn’t become destructive. He loved people, he loved dogs, he would go off with anyone. One time I hid in Hackney Marshes thinking he would come and find me, no, he found a playmate and off he went! Henry taught me a million things about teenage dogs, about our expectations and about their abilities (or lack of) and in return I spent six months finding him a home, the best one based in Bristol where he still resides as a happy old man to this day.

Pip came to us when he was seven years old, he is now 11 years. He was such a worried-scared-to-put a-foot-wrong dog and yet everyone kept saying how confident and happy he was!

Actually, he was just really good at hiding the anxiety, it was like he kept swallowing it, holding his jaw closed, tolerating it and not daring to let it out. Which was so sad in itself, it took me nearly two years to sort his stomach out. It took me nearly a month to teach him to use the stairs and for him to know he was allowed to go up and down as he liked. He had been told off so much in the past, he was now scared if his ball touched the flowers or the wall and would stop playing immediately and retreat inside for fear of reprimand.

Pip has taught me that a dog’s body language can vary so much and understanding our dog’s language is a critical part of developing a relationship. You can’t do training and behaviour work if you can’t read how your dog is experiencing it. Pip has helped me understand how to deal with the anxious, worried and unsure. I’ve helped him find his feet, gain confidence, play and know that it is okay to make mistakes.

He arrived with my sister and her family when he was 18 months old. He had been living in a crate and only exercised by being tethered to a belt to run alongside a bike, while wearing a set of bells. It took him 2 years to decompress from that situation. And during that time, he didn’t listen; didn’t come back and didn’t want to respond when asked to do things because freedom was new, freedom was all of that had to be figured out. In tiny, tiny baby steps we built up trust while bridging a desire to want to listen and learn how to enjoy new things.

He is like a different dog now, he can now be off lead in the garden (he used to hurdle fences) and no longer needs to be walked on a 5m-long line all the time. He can loose lead walk on a 2m lead and turns to Pip on walks for direction about how to interact with other dogs. Happy has taught the art of patience and that some dogs just take longer than others, and that is ok. They each have their own pace and past experiences will impact that pace and abilities. Just like us.

Pudding was found on the streets of Tottenham and sadly she taught me some not very nice things like the breeding we do to our dogs, the way we raise them, train and interact with them can impact them forever. That sometimes love can’t heal everything. We want to believe that it does, but her pain, her suffering and her abuse was so great that five months into fostering her, my mum and I had to take her to be put to sleep.

She tried to give so much and we tried to provide her with everything she needed to recuperate and feel balanced but the mental and physical impact of what she had been through was so great that as advised by her vet, we had to say goodbye. She compounded the fact that how your puppy is bred, created, socialised and experiences the world will determine so many things and we as adults, choosing puppies do need to start waking up to this.

Ruby was owned by my best friends who had her as a tiny puppy. A velvet ginger dog who loved to run, to play, to bark and to get stuck in. She taught me so much about vocalising (barking) and about how sensitivities can impact all of a dog, not just one part. She loved to know the boundaries and to understand the rules of the game and this was so incredible for me to learn from. That she thrived when she knew what was happening, when she felt safe and that is a huge part of life as well as dog ownership.  When we find that sweet spot of balance, which is what I help owners do, we and our dogs flourish.

‘Everything Your Puppy Wants You To Know’ – by Louise Glazebrook – is out now to buy as hardback and audiobook. Published by Orion Spring.