Things are tense right now between Patch and me. We had a disagreement earlier on our morning walk, and to be honest, I don’t think I handled it very well. I was on the phone going over health insurance plans with Summer, a sales rep, and trying to keep several different options in mind, the monthly fee vs. deductible, to-dental-or-not-to-dental, all that stuff. We were at our favorite park, a big grassy field behind Eakin Elementary where the neighborhood pups tend to congregate. I sat on a bench and figured it would be harmless to take Patch’s leash off and let him roam freely, but within eyeshot, as I discussed the nuances of health insurance.

The field is big but not that big, and doesn’t have a fence surrounding it, so there’s always an element of faith when you let a dog run around on it. Generally Patch is pretty good and doesn’t go very far, especially when there are other dogs around to play with. Today, there weren’t any. From my vantage point on the bench I nodded and said uh huh, uh huh to Summer as I watched Patch go further, and further, and further still. Towards the bushes at the edge, and then the sidewalk, and then towards the one place you never want your dog to be: the road.

Hang on Summer, one sec, I have to yell at my dog. I said. I got up, keeping the phone pressed to my chest, and shouted PATCH! COME! And Patch picked his head up, looked at me, and continued sniffing the ground.

Now this is something I’ve had to work on for a while. I understand perfectly well that dogs are not, and can not, be as petty as humans; they haven’t got the cerebral hardware for it. A dog doesn’t know how to do something just to piss you off, though they may do lots of things that do in fact piss you off. But that’s never their motivation. They just do what they want to do, and if they’re given a command to stop, they weigh their options. I guess I can only speak for Patch, this is what he does. Other dogs may be better trained and possess superior discipline. But Patch will weigh his options, and if the thing he’s been commanded not to do is tempting enough, well, he’s going to do it. I understand your request. He always seems to say. But I have made my decision.

Often, I forget this. I forget the impersonal nature of canine decision making and can’t help but interpret blatant disobedience as a personal insult. What it says about me that I’m able to get triggered by my dog could probably fill several future blog posts. But there I was, distracted by health insurance numbers and, now, offended. PATCH!!! COME!!! I yelled again, louder.

Patch ignored me. Kept sniffing the ground around the sidewalk, getting nearer and nearer to the road. (Thankfully it’s not a very busy road, but one should treat all roads with equal respect because it only takes one car to ruin your day.) At this point I was crossing the park in long, angry strides. Patch looked up, saw me coming, knew his freedom was in jeopardy, and ran even further away. He saw a friendly-looking pedestrian, collected a few quick pets, and crossed the sidewalk. He was now fully, completely, in the road.

Now it was game over for me. Here’s how I saw the deal: If I let you off the leash, if I show you the grace and generosity to allow you to run freely while I’m on the phone, I expect my kindness to be repaid. For the privilege of freedom, I expect you to come when called. Such blatant disrespect was nothing less than a declaration of war. I give you your freedom, your happiness, your very life. And this is how you repay me? THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY MY KINDNESS?!?

Okay it wasn’t that dramatic. What actually happened was I ran over and grabbed him by the fatty scruff of his neck. I’m not proud of it but I gave him a shake. He responded with a growl. One thing I’ve always appreciated about Patch is that he’s no pushover; he doesn’t take abuse from anyone, person or dog, lying down. I gave a shake, he gave a growl, I put the leash back on, and that was that. We finished the rest of the walk without incident. And I think I may have agreed to a really expensive health insurance policy.

Like I said, dogs don’t actually have a vindictive bone or brain cell in their body. And I know that when I first called out to him and he didn’t come, that switching to anger was the wrong move, not just because I don’t enjoy being a dick but because practically speaking, it won’t lead to a good outcome. This probably goes for people, too. If somebody wants you to do something and you don’t do it and they respond by flying into a rage, does that make you want to do it now? Maybe, probably not.

You can use the fire and brimstone method to get your way sometimes, but ultimately I think cooperation has to be freely and willingly chosen. The threat of violence or anger or punishment is only ever a short-term motivation. It’s impossible to sustain forever. Nobody is ever impressed by how mad you can get. But respect and appreciation? These are infinitely renewable resources.

Just get a shock collar, dummy.

Okay, fine, maybe I’m overthinking all this. The shock collar is a popular and effective tool. But my point is, you can’t put a shock collar on everyone. Dogs hate it, I'm pretty sure people don't like it either, and besides, it has to come off eventually. And what’s left at that point is nothing less than the consequences of your actions and the strength of your bond. I don't want Patch to obey, I want him to choose to cooperate. I want my bond with my dog to be defined by love, not punishment. Same goes for my family, and friends. Same goes for myself.

Patch just walked into my home office where I write this, tail wagging, all thoughts of our earlier disagreement gone, replaced by his now sole concern of finding the right sunny square of carpet to lie down in. He still trusts and respects me (I’m pretty sure.) The next time, and I hope there isn’t one, but the next time he runs into the road, I probably will have some kind of fight or flight stress response. It’s a scary moment, after all. But if I want him to come when called, he has to agree to it. And I can’t think of a single example of a time when I’ve convinced someone to do something by screaming at them. So how will I handle it? What’s the best way to ensure that Patch comes when I need him to?

I'll let you know this afternoon.