Stubborn

Or is your dog just trying to tell you something?

Loki being Stubborn

“He's so stubborn.”

It's one of those phrases that comes out of our mouths almost automatically.

The dog won't come back.

Stubborn.

Won't sit.

Stubborn.

Won't walk in the direction we want.

Definitely stubborn.

Refuses to get out of the car.

Very stubborn.

You ask the dog to do something.

The dog looks at you.

You ask again.

The dog looks at you.

You say their name.

The dog looks at you.

You try again.

The dog looks at you as if you've just asked them to explain quantum physics.

“Honestly, he's so bloody stubborn.”

I get it.

Wont be the first time I've called my dogs stubborn.

But what if we're looking at this the wrong way?

What if “stubborn” is actually a failure of communication?

Not necessarily the dog's failure.

Sometimes ours.

What does stubborn actually mean?

Let's start with the obvious question.

What does a stubborn dog actually do?

Usually, the answer is:

“He doesn't do what I tell him.”

And that is where things get interesting.

Because “stubborn” doesn't actually describe much about the dog's behaviour.

It describes the fact that the behaviour we wanted didn't happen.

It tells us what we wanted.

It doesn't tell us why the dog didn't do it.

And that distinction matters.

Because if your dog doesn't do something, there are dozens of possible explanations.

They might not understand.

They might not have learned the behaviour in that context.

They might be distracted.

They might be frightened.

They might be uncomfortable.

They might be tired.

They might be over-aroused.

They might be confused.

They might have learned that ignoring the cue works.

They might have a competing motivation.

They might not be physically capable of doing what you're asking.

Or...

They might simply have decided:

“No thanks.”

And even that is information.

Dogs don't speak English

This sounds ridiculously obvious.

But sometimes we forget it.

We say:

“Come.”

And expect the dog to understand that come means:

Leave whatever you're doing, immediately change direction, travel all the way back to me, despite whatever interesting thing is happening around you, and then stay there until I tell you otherwise.

Except we've often only taught:

“Come” = get a treat when we're standing three metres away in the kitchen.

Those aren't the same behaviour.

Then we take the dog to the park.

The dog spots another dog.

We shout:

“COME!”

Nothing.

“COME!”

Still nothing.

“COME HERE!”

The dog continues sniffing.

And we decide:

“He's stubborn.”

Perhaps.

Or perhaps we've just asked for the PhD version of a behaviour we only taught at GCSE.

Communication goes both ways

This is the bit I really want people to think about.

We spend an enormous amount of time teaching dogs what our words mean.

Sit.

Down.

Stay.

Come.

Leave.

Wait.

But how much time do we spend learning what our dogs are saying to us?

Because dogs communicate constantly.

Body position.

Eyes.

Ears.

Tail.

Movement.

Distance.

Vocalisation.

Avoidance.

Approach.

Freezing.

Sniffing.

Turning away.

And sometimes behaviour itself becomes communication.

A dog that refuses to walk through a particular doorway may be telling you something.

A dog that won't get into the car may be telling you something.

A dog that suddenly stops responding may be telling you something.

A dog that repeatedly walks away when you ask for something may be telling you something.

The question isn't:

“How do I make my stubborn dog do it?”

The question might be:

“What is my dog trying to communicate?”

The dog who won't get in the car

Let's say your dog refuses to get into the car.

“Stubborn.”

Okay.

But why?

Maybe the dog hates the car.

Maybe they've previously been car sick.

Maybe the car predicts the vet.

Maybe they don't like the sensation of travelling.

Maybe they've slipped getting into the boot.

Maybe the jump is physically uncomfortable.

Maybe they're tired.

Maybe it's raining.

Maybe there's something strange inside the car.

Maybe they've simply never been properly taught how to get in.

Or maybe they're standing there thinking:

“Last time I got in this thing, you took me to the vet and somebody stuck something in my backside.”

That's not stubbornness.

That's information.

The dog who won't come back

Recall is another favourite.

“My dog is stubborn.”

But imagine your dog is running around a field.

They're sniffing.

Exploring.

Running.

Being a dog.

You call them.

They look at you.

Then they look back at the interesting smell.

You call again.

They ignore you.

What has just happened?

Your dog has made a choice.

And their choice tells us something.

Perhaps our recall isn't strong enough.

Perhaps the environment is too difficult.

Perhaps we haven't made returning to us sufficiently rewarding.

Perhaps we've accidentally taught the dog that coming back means the fun ends.

Or perhaps the dog has simply discovered that the world is considerably more interesting than standing next to you.

That's not an insult.

That's a training problem.

And training problems are fixable.

Calling the dog stubborn doesn't fix anything.

But what if they really are choosing not to?

Here's where I think we need to be honest.

Sometimes a dog does understand what we've asked and chooses not to do it.

And that's okay.

Dogs aren't robots.

They have preferences.

They have motivations.

They make choices.

If I ask my dog to come away from something incredibly interesting and they decide they'd rather stay there, that tells me something.

It might tell me that the reinforcement history isn't strong enough.

It might tell me the environment is too difficult.

It might tell me I haven't built the behaviour sufficiently.

It might tell me the dog has learned that my cue isn't particularly important.

Or it might simply tell me:

“That thing over there is currently more valuable to me than what you're offering.”

That's useful information.

It isn't necessarily defiance.

“But he knows what sit means!”

Does he?

This is one of my favourite sentences in dog training.

“He knows what he's supposed to do.”

Maybe.

But knowing a behaviour in one context isn't the same as being able to perform it everywhere.

A dog can sit perfectly in the kitchen.

Then completely forget the existence of its hind legs when you ask for the same behaviour outside.

That's not necessarily stubbornness.

The environment has changed.

The distractions have changed.

The dog's emotional state may have changed.

The reinforcement has changed.

The difficulty has changed.

We wouldn't take a child who had learned basic maths and throw them into an A-level exam and then accuse them of being stubborn when they struggled.

Yet we do similar things with dogs all the time.

Sometimes the dog is saying “I can't”

This is an important distinction.

There is a massive difference between:

“I won't.”

and

“I can't.”

A dog may not be physically capable of doing something.

They may be in pain.

They may be exhausted.

They may be overwhelmed.

They may be frightened.

They may be too aroused to think clearly.

They may not understand the cue.

They may not have the necessary skill yet.

If we interpret all of those things as:

“He's refusing.”

we can end up punishing a dog for communicating a genuine limitation.

And that is where “stubborn” can become dangerous.

The dog who suddenly “becomes stubborn”

This is one I would always take seriously.

A dog has always been happy to jump into the car.

Then suddenly refuses.

A dog normally comes when called.

Now they don't.

A dog normally enjoys walks.

Suddenly they don't want to leave the house.

A dog normally sits easily.

Now they're reluctant.

Before reaching for the word stubborn, I'd consider whether something has changed.

Pain.

Illness.

Fatigue.

A change in environment.

A frightening experience.

A change in routine.

Something we haven't noticed.

Behaviour is information.

And sometimes a change in behaviour is the dog's way of telling us:

“Something isn't right.”

Humans are stubborn too

This is where we can have a little fun with it.

Imagine if dogs described us in the same way.

Your dog asks you to play.

You say no.

“Human is stubborn.”

Your dog wants to go outside.

You're busy making dinner.

“Human refuses to cooperate.”

Your dog brings you the lead.

You say:

“Not now.”

Your dog:

“This human is incredibly stubborn.”

Your dog asks for a walk.

You say:

“It's raining.”

Your dog:

“Excuses.”

And if your dog could write a training report, perhaps it would say:

Handler requires further training. Frequently fails to respond to clear communication.

Honestly, they're probably not wrong.

Sometimes we're asking the wrong question

When a dog doesn't do what we want, our instinct is often:

“How do I make them do it?”

I'd rather start with:

“Why didn't they?”

That tiny change in wording can completely alter how we approach the problem.

If the dog doesn't sit:

Why?

If the dog doesn't come:

Why?

If the dog won't walk:

Why?

If the dog won't get in the car:

Why?

If the dog won't leave the sofa:

Why?

We're not making excuses for the dog.

We're gathering information.

And information gives us something to work with.

The two-way conversation

Good training isn't just about teaching a dog to understand us.

It's about learning to understand them.

We teach them our words.

They teach us their body language.

We ask for behaviours.

They give us feedback.

We change the environment.

They show us whether that helped.

We make something easier.

They show us whether they can cope.

It's a conversation.

And like any conversation, it doesn't work terribly well if only one person is allowed to speak.

So, is your dog stubborn?

Maybe.

But I'd probably ask a few more questions first.

Does the dog understand what you're asking?

Have you actually taught the behaviour?

Can they do it in this environment?

Are there distractions?

Is there something more rewarding available?

Are they frightened or uncomfortable?

Could pain or illness be involved?

Have you accidentally taught them that ignoring you works?

Have you built enough reinforcement history?

Are you asking for too much too soon?

And finally:

What is your dog telling you?

Because perhaps “stubborn” isn't really describing the dog at all.

Perhaps it's describing the moment when our communication broke down.

Maybe your dog isn't stubborn.

Maybe they're confused.

Maybe they're distracted.

Maybe they're frightened.

Maybe they're tired.

Maybe they're uncomfortable.

Maybe they haven't learned what you think they've learned.

Maybe the environment is too difficult.

Maybe you've accidentally reinforced the wrong behaviour.

Maybe the thing you're asking them to do isn't worth doing right now.

Or maybe...

they've simply got better things to do.

And honestly?

That's okay.

Because the moment we stop calling the dog stubborn and start asking why, we've moved from frustration to investigation.

And that's where training actually begins.

Less labelling.

More listening.

Less “make them”.

More “help them understand”.

Because our dogs aren't just being trained by us.

They're communicating with us all the time.

We just need to get better at listening.