Setting up the environment to support that social connection, rather than fighting it, everyone wins - the dog, the client, and the dog pro.
As a dog pro, I see this every day: clients confusing normal canine behavior with problem behavior. And some days, it drives me nuts.
Here's a common example. Clients say they don't want their dog begging at the table. I get it. But my thought is: What is the function of the behavior? Curiosity? Seeking social connection?
Dogs are scavengers by nature. When a dog wanders into the dining room during a meal and starts investigating, they're not being rude. They're being curious. They’re being dogs and showing us behavioral diversity in action. If we're paying attention, they're showing us something else too: they want to be with us.
I invite my dogs to be wherever I am - the kitchen, the living room, the office. Why? Because I live with dogs for companionship. So of course, they assume I want them in the dining room too.
Most clients also got dogs for companionship,until they get swept up in the "your dog must" frenzy. That frenzy slowly sucks the joy out of the relationship. My dogs are my companions first. That's what most clients want, too.
Here's what I see when my dogs come into the dining room: My girls - all three are Great Danes - are tall enough to scan the table, and they do. Are they plotting to steal my food? Maybe. But mostly I think they're curious (“hey, what’s that smell) and are seeking shared space and social connection, doing what social animals do. They're joining the group.
And if we've established a predictable pattern of sharing food from the table, and I absolutely have, and I'm not apologizing for it, then of course the dog is going to show up and see what's happening. We created that pattern. That's not begging. That's a dog who learned the household rules, even if we created them unintentionally.
I have a big farmhouse table because I have a huge, wonderful, chaotic family. But even in a small dining room, you can set this up.
In the corners of my dining room, I have large bolster beds. When we sit down to eat, my girls come in, do their sniff-the-table thing, check out what's for dinner, and then — mostly without any prompting — they settle into their chosen spots. They know what's coming: periodically, something good is going to land near them. Food flies. We're all sharing in the social moment of breaking bread together.
I also have tethers on the wall for foster dogs who don't know the house rules yet, or adolescents feeling particularly spicy that day. Smart management, not punishment.
One unintended, and darn funny, consequence: sometimes I'm the one who forgets the rules. I'll sit down, and I haven't followed the dinner routine. I’m human. I get distracted. My oldest girl, Ursa, has developed a solution. She walks over, gets about ten inches from my face, and rumbles. Just a low, rumbly communication. The first time she did it, I stared at her, a little confused. And then I realized she was reminding me I wasn't following the dinner rule.
Sometimes I have the urge to "forget" on purpose, just because I love that rumble so much. She's communicating with me. And that's extraordinary.
What I tell clients: your dog isn't being bad. Your dog is trying to spend time with you. They're trying to be part of yourgroup, because you are everything to them.
When we set up the environment to support that social connection rather than fight it, everyone wins. The dog gets to be a dog. The client gets what they wanted when they brought a dog home. It's part environmental arrangement, part life skill, part predictable pattern — and it's not overwhelming to implement.
That last part matters. If what I'm asking clients to do isn't realistic for their lives, nobody succeeds. The most sustainable behavior change happens when the environment makes the right choices easy and natural, for the dog and the person.
The dining room is just the beginning.
On August 27 at 7 PM Eastern, I'm hosting a live webinar — Good Dogs Live in Good Rooms: Room-by-Room Strategies to Support Behavioral Diversity — where we'll walk through how to set up home environments to support behavioral diversity, reduce friction, and create real companionship between dogs and the people who love them.
We'll cover the kitchen (counter surfing, co-regulation while cooking, and the magic of yoga mats), the bathroom (yes, really — parkour in a bathtub is a thing), the home office (what goes in, what doesn't, and why your adolescent dog is crashing your Zoom calls), and the living room (world watching, toy buckets, and why I stopped telling clients to block the windows).
$19.95 for one hour of practical, real-world tools your clients can use immediately — no extra training drills required.
Hope to see you there.