Labels vs. Descriptions: How You Should Talk About Your Dog's Behavior

My dog is reactive. Yours might be, too. But when we say this, are we describing their behavior, or are we labeling it? And does it make a difference?

As I have said before, labels are great because they allow us to easily discuss complicated concepts. When I tell another dog person that my dog is reactive, they immediately understand what I mean. Unfortunately, what labels aren’t so good at is describing exactly what we mean. Yes, that person might have a general picture in their mind of what my dog does, but what if their definition of “reactive” is different than mine? Are we really talking about the same behavior?

After discussing it with others, I have discovered that there are a wide variety of things that dogs can do and still be called reactive. I hold the classic view: lunging, barking, growling. Others include more assertive behaviors, such as snapping or biting. Still others include overt displays of fear, such as cowering or running away. Are all these things reactivity?

This is one of the major problems with labels. While they make for great shorthand, they aren’t terribly clear. Everyone has a slightly different idea of what that label means. As a result, there are times when I think we would be better off describing the behavior, not labeling it.

So what does it mean to describe a behavior? It’s the process of using words to explain what a dog did in such a way that another person can form an accurate mental picture. It’s like writing stage directions in a script: the words tell you exactly what the movie will show you. Consider these two examples:

I took Maisy for a walk today and she had a reactive outburst.

…as opposed to…

I took Maisy for a walk today. When she saw a bicyclist go past, she quickly rushed towards him while growling. Once she got to the end of her leash, she strained against it and barked repeatedly. She didn’t respond to her name or any verbal commands until the bike was out of sight, at which point she returned to my side. She didn’t really pay attention to me, though, and instead continued to stare towards where she last saw the bike.

The first statement is a label. It is quick and easy to say, and most people will have a pretty good idea of what I mean, especially if we’ve talked about it before. The second statement is a description of her behavior. It gives a very clear picture of what happened, including the circumstances around it. There are even clues about her general arousal level.

But does this distinction matter? In many contexts, probably not. Casual conversation doesn’t require the precision and details inherent in a description- thank goodness, because boy is it a mouthful! However, there are times when we want clarity about what happened.

Perhaps the most important time to describe instead of label is when we’re seeking help. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen someone ask for help on the internet using a label, only for them to receive tons of questions instead of a response. While this usually just slows down the answers, I have seen well-meaning people give inappropriate advice because they were envisioning something different than what actually happened.

Another difficulty is that if we think in terms of labels, we won’t notice or remember the details. When designing a behavior modification plan, those details are important. Without them, it is very difficult to determine the severity of the behavior, the dog’s underlying emotional state, even the triggers! Sometimes several different behaviors get lumped together under the same label. All of this makes it much more difficult to create a plan that will be successful.

Using labels instead of descriptions makes it difficult to measure progress as well. I have called Maisy reactive for several years now. However, her actual behavior has changed over time. Take the example above, about Maisy’s reaction to a child on rollerblades. That description was accurate two years ago, however today, the same situation would probably be described like this:

I took Maisy for a walk today. When she saw a bicyclist go past, she wuffed softly, but stood in place. She watched the bike go past, and then looked back at me. I called her, and her body visibly relaxed as she came to me.

Although I label both of those examples as “reactive,” they are very, very different behaviors. The second one shows a great deal of improvement, but if I simply used the label, no one would ever realize how much better she is these days.

So… is my dog reactive? I think so, but now that you know more about what she does, you might disagree. That’s okay. While labeling the behavior is more convenient, the true goal of communication is for both of us to understand what the other one means. If that understanding can happen with labels, great. But sometimes, describing behavior will have better results.

Hey, Baby, What's Your Sign: On Labels and Perceptions

Is this the face of a Libra... or a Virgo?

Have you heard the news? Because the moon’s gravitational pull has caused the earth to “wobble” on its axis, your zodiac sign might not be what you think it is. According to an article that came out last week, this shift means that the dates commonly associated with the various signs are off by almost an entire month.

This means that I’m now a Leo, not a Virgo like I always thought. Wait. A Leo? Me? That couldn’t possibly be true. I mean, I’m a classic Virgo: analytical, observant, reliable, independent, and yes, I do tend to over think things from time to time. But as surprising as this revelation was, I was even more surprised by how upset I felt, especially since I don’t really put that much stock in horoscopes. Still, being told that I’m not a Virgo after all this time felt weird. I’ve spent my entire life believing one thing about myself, and it’s hard to accept this new identity.

It makes sense, though. Humans like to categorize things because it helps us make sense of our world, and once we classify something in a particular way, we are very reluctant to change the way we think about it. That’s probably why I feel so resistant to the idea that I’m really a Leo, even if I do have some of the typical characteristics.

We do this to our dogs, too. We label them with words like “dominant,” or “submissive.” We call them “shy,” or “outgoing,” or “fearful,” or “confident.” We might even call them “reactive” and “anxious.” And each time we do this, we begin to think about our dog differently.

Is this bad? Not necessarily. Labels give us easy ways to describe complicated concepts. They can help us understand why our dogs are acting a certain way. They can help us feel empathy for them, even when they’re doing things we don't like. They allow us get them the help they need from trainers or vets.

But because labels shape the way we perceive our dogs, it can cause us to give up on them or do unpleasant things to them. How many people don’t bother training their dogs because they’re “stubborn”? How many dogs are subjected to forceful procedures because they’re “trying to be the alpha”? How many dogs are put to sleep because they’re “aggressive”? And how many dogs could live better lives if their people were able to look past the labels they’ve been given?

So, what’s the answer? To be honest, I’m not sure. Part of me wants to say that we should quit labeling our dogs, but I know that labels can be just as helpful and they can be harmful. There’s no point in throwing out the baby with the bathwater, after all.

I guess the best course of action is to assign labels cautiously. Are we labeling our dogs because it helps us understand them better, or because it allows us to make excuses? Does this label limit my dog’s potential or will it help him grow? How was the label chosen; is it based on careful, objective observation, or are we throwing around words with little meaning? Does the label apply all the time, or only in certain circumstances? Is this label accurate?

And of course, we should always question that label once it’s been given. Does this label still make sense? Has my dog changed and outgrown the label? Does using this label improve my relationship with my dog, or does it damage it?

I have labeled Maisy as many things, starting right at the beginning with the title of my blog. I’ve called her reactive, a word that has a negative connotation, even though people can’t seem to agree on what it means. Has that changed my feelings about her? No, not in the least, but whereas calling her reactive gives me a framework for helping her, it may have unintended consequences. Maybe it unfairly changes the way others view her.

Maisy’s visit with the veterinary behaviorist garnered her a whole new set of labels: generalized anxiety disorder, fear aggressive and resource guarder. I have to admit, I don’t like that middle one. It conjures up images that I do not associate with my dog at all, so it’s one that I don’t use when I think about or describe her. Still, those labels allowed us to access the medication that has improved Maisy’s quality of life so much. I just hope people can see past the labels and into her heart.

Clearly, labels have power. Because of that, we need to be certain that the labels we use are accurate. More importantly, we need to be willing to question those labels instead of blindly accepting them. If someone gives your dog a label, you need to decide if it matches up with reality. Not your own perception, but reality, because if you’ve labeled your dog in some way, you owe it to him to reexamine what led you to that conclusion. If the label is helpful- if it helps you make better decisions for your dog, if it allows you to understand him better, or if it deepens your bond with him- keep it. If not, look for another. Don’t settle for labels that damage your relationship.