Your Dog Is Talking. Are You Listening?
Updated: Sep 15
We have dogs living in our homes, sleeping in our beds, starring in our family photos—and we're still routinely misreading what they're telling us.
Imagine moving to a foreign country today where no one speaks your language.
You'd probably adapt pretty quickly.
You'd watch people. You'd pay attention to their expressions and body language. You'd figure out what certain words mean. You'd do whatever you could to understand them—because you have to.
Now imagine moving into someone's home where no one speaks your language.
They tell you what to do, and you do your best to understand. Sometimes you get it right. They smile, clap, tell you “Yay!” and you're proud because you figured it out.
But other times, you get it wrong.
They look disappointed. Confused. Maybe frustrated.
They repeat the same thing again and again, but they never stop to show you what they're asking in a way you truly understand.
You desperately wish you could understand them.
They desperately wish you'd understand, too.
But no one ever stops to ask:
“Hey... what language do you speak?”
That's your dog.
I was once asked to help with a Mastiff for a rescue. He was growling, planting himself in place and wouldn't let anyone near him, or exit the small space he was in willingly.
Mastiffs can be challenging to read. Their wrinkles, sagging jowls, droopy eyes, cropped ears and often-docked tails can make some of their more subtle signals difficult to see.
The person who called me was a police officer who genuinely cared about the dog's state of mind, his comfort, and keeping everyone safe.
Before calling me, he had spent a long time sitting quietly with the dog, trying to build rapport and trust. But time was running out, and the dog was still planted in the small space he had decided to resource guard.
So he called me.
He looked at this big, intimidating, growling dog and essentially said:
“I can't tell what this dog is going to do. I need help. Can you read him with me?”
So we FaceTimed.
I walked him through what I was seeing and what I believed the dog was communicating. We talked through what the dog needed, how to approach him, how to give him the space he was asking for, and what was safe and realistic in that moment.
That moment has always stuck with me.
Because he could have assumed the worst. Instead, he recognized that he didn't have enough information—and he asked for help understanding the dog in front of him.
Whatever was happening underneath that dog's behavior, he was communicating something important: he was not comfortable, and he needed space.
Understanding what a dog is communicating doesn't mean ignoring risk or assuming we know exactly what they're thinking. It means recognizing the information they're giving us—and using it to make safer, better decisions.
The goal wasn't to prove that this big, growling dog was “fine.”
The goal was to understand him well enough to help him safely.
And because one person was willing to stop, listen, and ask for help instead of simply assuming that a big, growling dog needed to be forced into compliance, or worse, that dog got the help he needed—and no one was harmed in the interaction.
That's what I want for dogs.
And for people.
I want that same understanding to extend to the owners who are struggling, too.
Think about the person standing on the side of the road with a reactive dog while everyone else walks past thinking, “Wow. Their dog is out of control.”
What if instead we thought:
“Wow. That must be really hard. Look at them out here doing the work.”
What if, instead of judging, we understood what that dog was saying?
Maybe we could give them more space.
Maybe we could cross the street.
Maybe, if we had a dog who was great at reading other dogs and de-escalating, we could recognize that and offer support rather than judgment.
What a different world that would be.
And I've been so lucky to experience a little glimpse of that world, many many times.
We were at the lake recently with our two dogs and several other dogs. I sat back and watched them do what dogs do best: communicate.
There was an older dog who needed space. He was very good at asking for it appropriately, and the other dogs listened. His owners communicated with us, too.
“He doesn't like when dogs get in his face.”
I knew my Lab, Winnie, had never met him and could come on a little strong. So I asked:
“Does he correct and move on, or correct and go looking for a fight?”
“Correct and move on—if the dog accepts the correction.”
Perfect.
I knew Winnie accepted appropriate corrections well. I knew she'd offer calming signals afterward and give him space.
So I trusted them.
And that's exactly what happened.
The young dogs played. The older dogs laid in the shade. The humans talked. The dogs communicated. The owners communicated.
Maybe someone stole a meat stick.
Maybe somebody gave a dog a hot dog or a potato chip.
And nobody had to make a big production out of any of it.
It was just people and dogs living together.
Dogs being dogs.
And it was wonderful.
That is the dream.
Not dogs who never make mistakes.
Not dogs who obey every command perfectly.
Dogs who can communicate, dogs who are understood, and people who know when to step in—and when to simply let dogs be dogs.
I hope we start having more of those little lightbulb moments with our dogs.
The moment we stop and think:
“Wow. I love this dog SO much. What if I learned to understand them better?”
Not because we're bad owners. Not because we haven't loved them enough. Quite the opposite.
We love them so much we'd do almost anything for them.
So what if we took our egos and preconceived ideas out of our silly heads and say:
“Okay. I'm ready. I'm ready to learn—for my dog.”
Really. I promise it'll be okay. 😂
Imagine if becoming fluent in dog behavior and communication became the norm.
Imagine recognizing when a dog needs space, when they're unsure, when they're overwhelmed, when they're asking for help—and teaching the people around us to recognize it, too.
I truly believe understanding our dogs better could prevent and improve so many of the problems we currently label as “behavior issues.”
And maybe someday, I'll have less work to do.
Honestly?
I'd be okay with that.
Because how incredible would it be if we all understood what our dogs were saying?
Not just for our own dogs.
For all of them. For us too.
Our dogs have been communicating all along.
Are we willing to learn and listen?
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