Sarah Kalnajs Seminar: How to Greet a Dog

Megan's doing it right: She's down on Maisy's level, at an angle, avoiding direct eye contact, 

letting Maisy approach her (instead of invading Maisy's space), and petting the chest and shoulders (as opposed to the top of her head). Is it any wonder that Maisy loves Megan?

Today's post is on the proper way to greet a dog. I think most the vast majority of my readers are quite dog-savvy, but even so, it's easy skip one or more of these guidelines... especially with our own dogs, who we know well, and who we assume will always put up with our primate selves. The truth is, many, many people are guilty of greeting dogs in ways that make them uncomfortable, myself included, so today I want to share Sarah's suggestions for proper dog-human greetings.

Before approaching any dog, assess his body language. It doesn't matter how well you know the dog. He may be your dog of 10 years, or he maybe a random dog you meet on the street. Either way, you should always assess the dog's body language. Friendly dogs can have bad days, and scaredy-pups can be interested in playing with you. But you'll never know if you aren't paying attention to what the dog is saying.

If he says you can come closer, approach at an angle by arcing gently. This is polite, nonconfrontational, and shows that you want to be friends. Being direct and straight-on is bad manners at best, and aggressive at worst, so start things off right by walking in a slight curve. (Incidentally, if your dog is meeting another on leash, get them off on the right foot by moving towards the other dog in that half-moon shape.)

Stop a few feet from the dog, and assess the dog's body language again. Things can change quickly, and the dog that you thought was okay with you (or the dog that thought he would be with you), may have changed his mind. So stop and check, and be willing to forgo that meeting if that's what the dog is telling you.

If he still says he's okay with the idea of meeting you, crouch down to the dog's level and orient your body at an angle. Please note that you should not close the gap- you'll be two to three feet away from the dog at this point. Just as it is rude to invade another person's space bubble, it's rude to invade a dog's. Allow him to close that space if he wants to.

Your job is to be polite and inviting, and you're going to do this by avoiding direct eye contact, leaning over the top of him, or getting in his face. Sarah also said you shouldn't smile directly towards the dog, as he may incorrectly interpret this as an offensive tooth display. She also stressed that it's rude to invade the dog's space by thrusting your hand or fist directly into his face. This is often counter to what we're taught- after all, how many times have you seen someone do this, or been told to let a dog smell your hand? True, the dog will want to smell you (it's their strongest sense, and as such, the best way for them to get to know you), but let him do that in away that doesn't get in his space.

The dog should be the one to make contact, so let him decide if he wants to be touched or not. Do not assume that it is your right to pet him, even if he does venture near you. A shy dog might be willing to come close, but isn't acutally interested in being physical. If he wants to be touched, he'll make it obvious; dogs that are rubbing against you, pushing his face near you, leaning on you, or otherwise seeking out your loving are all fair game.

Even if the dog says you may touch him, you still need to be careful to do this in a way that he appreciates. To that end, stroke from under, not over. Dogs generally do not like having their heads touched (and let's face it, you'd probably be weirded out if someone taller than you patted you roughly on the head, too). Try petting his chest or shoulders instead. Some dogs are okay with their chins and backs, too, but you should be continually assessing the dog's body language as you're interacting with him.

Finally, even if he wants to meet you, don't force him to stay longer than he's comfortable with. If he wants to end the interaction, let him. He'll appreciate that courtesy. 

So, dear readers, what do you think? Do you ever find yourself bending the rules just a bit? Which one is hardest for you to follow, and why? Would you add anything to these suggestions? Would you remove something? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

It's Okay to Say No

I've been around this block before, 

both literally and figuratively.

Now that the weather's nicer, Maisy and I are starting to encounter other people while we're out on walks. I wouldn't mind this except it presses the issue: do I let people greet her?

When Maisy was younger, I allowed it. For one thing, I was a bit too Minnesota Nice to say no, and besides, it was good socialization, right? As I became more dog-savvy, I started to realize that Maisy didn't particularly like to say hi. My trainer taught me the importance of protecting my dog, and so I started to say no. In fact, I learned to be downright rude if need be, holding up my hand like a traffic cop and loudly saying “STOP!”

Since Maisy's been on medication, though, her reactions have changed. She's seemed more social. She's been fine around scary dudes and unfamiliar dogs. As a result, I've been watching her body language and making greeting decisions on a case-by-case basis.

Last week this was put to the test... and I think I failed. Here's what happened: Maisy and I were out for a walk. She was in high spirits and pretty exuberant. A group of pre-teens was walking towards us, and when our paths met, one was clearly interested in meeting her. For her part, Maisy was soft and wiggly, leaning towards him inquisitively, and so I allowed him to pat her.

Maisy was not pleased. She squealed and rushed away, tail tucked between her legs. I felt awful. How could I have read her so wrong?

In truth, I don't think I did. I think she just expected something else. The young boy did everything wrong- he leaned over her, trying to pet her on the head- but he didn't know that dogs don't like that. The average person has no idea how scary this is to a dog. Maisy may have wanted to say hi, but she didn't want to say hi to a rude primate.

I should have been proactive and told him how to greet her. I should have asked him to kneel sideways, let her sniff his palm, and then stroke her chest. But it all happened so fast that I didn't have time. It wasn't Maisy's fault, it wasn't the boy's fault, and it wasn't even my fault, not really.

Still, it was my responsibility, and I failed. I'm kind of glad I did, though, because after I got over my initial feelings of shame and guilt, it helped me figure out how to answer people when they ask, “Can I pet your dog?” I'm not going to squirrel her away in a protective bubble, never allowed to meet anyone. I don't think that's any healthier than forcing her to greet everyone we cross paths with. But I can't count on her to tell me when it's okay, and I certainly can't count on the general public to know how interact with dogs politely. From here on out, my rule is that if Maisy's on leash, she will only greet people that I know are dog-savvy. If she's off leash, she can greet people if she chooses, but I won't ask her to. She can approach- or not- by her own free will.

In other words, I realized that it's okay to say no. It's okay to say no to the people who want to say hi, it's okay to say no to Maisy's wiggly body language, and it's okay to say no to myself when I wish that she could greet strangers. I don't have a normal dog, after all, and you know what? That is okay, too.