Be Someone Your Dog Would Choose to Live With

Introduction

Do we increase our dog’s perception of threat, intentionally or unintentionally?

Do we regulate ourselves at their expense?

These questions lead us to more efficient and effective behavior work with our dogs, but they can also facilitate healthier relationships alongside our own personal growth.

When people seek out the support of a behavior consultant, it’s most often because the dog is engaging in unwanted behaviors. These behaviors might be frustrating, heartbreaking, dangerous, or all of the above.

Most of these behavior concerns are symptoms of either acute or chronic dysregulation.

Dysregulated dogs are more closely aligned with their sympathetic than parasympathetic nervous system; closer to fight or flight than rest and digest. The quickest way to dysregulation is the perception of threat.

Chronically dysregulated nervous systems are more likely to sense threat in their environment and are slower to accept that they are safe. Their window of stress tolerance is smaller because their baseline stress levels are higher. They activate more intensely, sooner. They take longer to rebound to baseline stress levels than other dogs.

If the behaviors at hand are symptoms of dysregulation, then we address the dysregulation, not the behaviors (in fact, focusing on the behaviors instead of the dysregulation is a quick trip to increased dysregulation). The quickest way to dysregulation is threat perception. Therefore, the quickest way through dysregulation back to a regulated nervous system is to reduce the perception of threat.

This is one of the big reasons that all behavior therapy starts with a robust management plan. If our dogs are continuously exposed to threat, even threats we perceive as unrelated to the behaviors in question, our work won’t be as effective, efficient, or ethical as we want it to be.

Holistic management means looking at threat from our dog’s point of view. What might they perceive as threatening to their survival, their autonomy, or their social connections? How can we reduce or remove that perception so that they can feel safest in their bodies?

One area to examine is our own behavior. We are powerful, here. We can be the biggest source of safety for our dogs. We can be a safe base for them to return to when the world is hard or threatening. Or, we can unintentionally leave them feeling disconnected and alone in the moments they need us most.

The chances that our own behavior is contributing to our dog’s dysregulation are high. Not because we’re bad or uncaring, but because we are human. Because we are social creatures living with other social creatures. Because their nervous systems are part of our environment, and ours are part of theirs. Because our systems are not built to support us. Because our systems stress hyper-individualism. Because our needs are not met.

As humans, particularly as humans navigating our role as caregivers for a learner of another species who feels unsafe at least some of the time, and maybe most of the time, we’re likely to be dysregulated ourselves.

The triggers are everywhere – we form adaptive associations that spike our own anxiety as we anticipate a reaction from our dog.

Our own sympathetic nervous system sounds the alarm for a threat as our dog vocalizes over and over.

We feel embarrassed, guilty, and ashamed as our dog behaves in ways that bring real or imagined judgment from others.

We sacrifice our own enrichment needs for the comfort and safety of our dog.

We feel overwhelmed and overstimulated. We feel physically unsafe.

And that doesn’t even begin to touch on stressors that may be dysregulating us unrelated to our dog.

An important part of behavior work, then, is intentionally taking stock of our own experience and how we can be empowered to support ourselves and our dogs without adding to their perception of threat.

Defining Dysregulation

Dysregulation is a nervous system state. It is a response to something.

Inhibition and processing are not fully available to the learner in a dysregulated state. Learning is still happening, but generally it’s not the kind of learning we want. Our learner quickly learns what is safe, what predicts relief, what predicts escalation, and what leads to survival.

Dysregulation is protective and adaptive. Survival is the priority. The learner employs strategies that have been reinforced by survival.

We often misinterpret dysregulation. Dysregulation is not a moral failing. It isn’t a choice. It isn’t manipulation. Behavior stemming from dysregulation isn’t due to a lack of training or a failure of leadership. Dysregulation isn’t a defect that needs to be cured or rehabilitated. It isn’t a dominance issue. It isn’t something to push through, and it isn’t a fixed personality trait even when chronic.

Dysregulation is not something to be suppressed, rehabilitated, or cured. Rather, the goal is to make these responses less necessary.

Behaviorally, dysregulation can appear in a number of ways. Because behavior is contextual, the same learner may display different behaviors as a result of dysregulation in across contexts.

Dysregulation can appear as aggressive behavior, like biting, fighting, lunging, and vocalizing. The learner might run away, escape, or hide. They might make themselves small and non-threatening, or become fast, frantic, and fidgety. They may dissociate and be perceived as “fine” in their more manageable state when stress levels are actually the highest.

We might label these dogs as reactive, aggressive, fearful, anxious, hypervigilant, hyperaroused, shut down, clingy, or avoidant.

Chronically dysregulated dogs may be diagnosed with anxiety disorders, hyper- or hypo-arousal disorders, or trauma disorders.

Whether a dog is chronically dysregulated, and what they perceive as a threat, is shaped by a myriad of variables, including genetics, early and current environment, learning history, their relationships, and their physical health, including the impacts of pain, medications, sensory processing, diet and nutrition, and more.

Dysregulation doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It does not exist in isolation. It is not something broken inside the dog. It’s not a defect to be fixed.

Rather, dysregulation is shaped moment by moment. It’s influenced by who is present and how they respond, the power dynamics at play, and the predictability of the environment.  

Dysregulation is not just for dogs. As human caregivers, we are often also dysregulated, chronically or acutely, especially those living with chronic stress, neurodivergence, trauma, burnout, or marginalization.

Like with humans, we can view dysregulation from the medical or social model of disability.

A social model of disability suggests that some nervous systems have narrower windows of tolerance, and this is not a failure, but rather a natural variation throughout the species impacted by a myriad of variables. Comparing one nervous system to another is harmful, as there will be natural differences in timeline and in what healing looks like.

Rather than viewing dysregulation as a defect that falls on the individual to fix, we can adapt our environment to be more accommodating of the learner.

The goal is not perfected regulation. The goal is to reduce the need for dysregulation as a survival strategy. The goal is access to safety and support across states. The goal is increased empowerment and enhanced resilience. The goal is harm reduction, reduced risk. The goal is increased quality of life.

Trauma research consistently shows that healing requires predictability, relational safety, absence of threat, and opportunities for agency and choice.

When we focus on addressing the symptoms, we can do more harm.

For example, we might try to address the behavioral evidence of dysregulation by suppressing. We may use a firm or loud tone to stop the behavior, use physical coercion like hitting, leash pops, spray bottles, penny cans, prong collars, or e-collars.

But we can also do this by reinforcing alternative behaviors as suggested by positive reinforcement work.

We can reinforce our dog into sitting still while their nervous system tells them to run. We can cue them to a convenient place while their nervous system yells, “threat!” This is itself another form of suppression, which directly increases the perception of threat.

Behaving in a way that can best help our dog takes intentionality. It requires unpacking our own behaviors, holding them up to the light to examine them. It means regulating ourselves without relying on our dog being regulated to get us there. It means accepting dysregulation as part of our experience, and not blaming or shaming ourselves for being human any more than we blame or shame our dogs for being dogs.

Instead of, “How do I stop this behavior?” we can ask, “How do I make things safer for my dog?”

If Safety Were a Person

Being safe people for our dogs doesn’t require perfection or suppression of our emotions. In fact, these roads set us up to fail.  

We are only human.

Being a safe person is a verb, a constant and dynamic action. Our dogs decide if we are safe, it’s not a title we give ourselves.

We will get it wrong. We will get it sort of right. Sometimes we’ll knock it out of the park. It’s vital to expect that variance from ourselves, or our own perception of threat will spike when we find that we’re imperfect.

Safe people work to reduce threat, increase predictability, support agency, stay present through dysregulation, and engage in repair when safety breaks. Let’s break that down.

Safety Reduces Threat

Dysregulation shows up when there is threat to connection, autonomy, or survival.

When we act as safe people, we work to actively reduce our dog’s perception of threat. This is about felt safety, not necessarily physical danger or malicious intent.

If we respond to our dog’s dysregulation by becoming irritated and impatient, or by withdrawing, our dogs can learn that their distress itself is predictive of increased threat. Not only are they dysregulated because of the external stressor, but also in anticipation of our response. 

The ask here is not to accept all behavior, or to become resigned to it. Instead, it is the removal of judgment around the learner’s distress. We might think to ourselves, or say out loud to our dogs –

“You make sense.”

“You’re not in trouble.”

“I can see you’re having a hard time.”

Our behavior can communicate this to our dogs. We can keep a gentle and reassuring tone, open and soft body language. We can be predictable in the safety of our response.

Part of the work of behavior therapy is a back-and-forth conversation with our dogs in these moments. What helps? What hurts? The learner decides. It’s important we slow down long enough to listen.

Co-regulation often comes before the ability to self-regulate. Some dogs want presence without physical touch. Others might find slow, consensual touch to be regulating. We may find that pattern games are soothing to our own nervous system as well as our dog’s. We might take a deep breath so we can approach our dog with more steady movements.

When our learner doesn’t have to worry about our response to their distress also being distressing, this alone reduces threat.

Being Curious

Curiosity is threat-reducing. It slows our responses, softens our body language, and changes our behavior. It interrupts the cycle of escalation.

Safe people get curious. We can ask what this behavior tells us about what the dog needs and what they find threatening. We can ask what needs are unmet in this moment. We can examine the events leading up to the dysregulation and mine the data.

Curiosity is possible when we feel safe enough. When we’re being chased by a lion, it’s not a good time to be curious. That wouldn’t be at all adaptive.

If we notice that we can’t ask questions, we can’t get curious, this serves as a red flag for our own dysregulation. When we can recognize our own dysregulation, we are empowered to give ourselves the support we need.

This can look like tapping in another human to care for the dog while we care for ourselves, taking a few deep breaths before responding further, or even walking away when that’s the least harmful option on the table.

Expressing Gratitude

Being grateful is also threat-reducing. Gratitude, like curiosity, can happen most easily when we aren’t being chased by our own lion.

Gratitude in this context isn’t about toxic positivity, politeness, or compliance.

Rather, gratitude here allows us to recognize and appreciate our dog’s effort and their successes. Gratitude is about what we choose to notice – our dog’s lower-level stress signals, their communication, their requests for help, their attempts to cope with stress, their effort.

Our appreciation is necessary for sustainability in behavior work, and for quality in our relationship. It allows us to stay soft and to remember that our dog is trying.

When we only notice our dog’s unwanted and activating behaviors, we increase threat for ourselves and our dogs. We become less predictable. We scrutinize them more. We foster resentment and nurture contempt. Our emotional cups run dry faster and become harder to refill.

Morality, Worthiness, Shame, Resentment, and Power

Assigning morality to our dog’s behavior is a quick trip to increased threat for us both, and for our relationships.

When their behavior becomes a measure of goodness, worth, respect, or relationship quality, the stakes get high FAST. 

Suddenly, this isn’t about our dog lunging on a leash; it’s about our very identity as a human being. Instead of seeing their behavior as a symptom of our dog’s lack of perceived safety, it becomes a measure of our very worth.

Those are some high stakes.

The truth is that dogs cannot meet moral expectations. That’s a very human thing. When we put a human lens on their behavior and interpret it as stubbornness, defiance, or disrespect, we foster anger, create imagined power struggles, and create scenarios where our dog winning means that we lose.

Power struggles emerge when control is mistaken for safety. When compliance is mistaken for trust. When distress is mistaken for defiance. In these situations, only one of us can win, and we want to be the winner. Our dog, then, must lose. Our sense of safety depends on it.

Our dog is now our enemy, and they don’t have any way out of the relationship. Talk about dysregulation.

Being overcome by shame is another possible outcome of assigning morality to our dog’s behavior.

Shame is inherently dysregulating. It paralyzes us.

When we see our dog’s behavior as a reflection of our goodness, our worthiness, when we see their behavior as a representation of who we are as a person, their loss of control will feel like a personal failure.

Resentment is another consequence of assigning morality to our dog’s behavior. Resentment grows when their behavior doesn’t match our expectations, or our efforts to change them don’t produce the results we’ve decided we deserve.

Our expectations go unexamined as resentment builds, especially when our own support systems are inconsistent or absent. We try to pour from an empty cup and resent our dog for needing so much from us.

Safe people are only human. They do feel shame and resentment. They do feel pulled toward power struggles. Those experiences are not evidence that you are flawed or harmful. It’s what comes next that really matters.

Safe people can notice those signs early on and take them as a cue to pause. To reset. To connect with support. To refill their cups.

Safe people are not safe because they feel nothing, or because they always feel good, or because nothing bothers them. Rather, safe people strive to navigate their big emotions in a way that doesn’t increase threat for those around them.

Safety Increases Predictability

Dysregulated dogs often experience the world as quickly changing. They perceive the world as inconsistent. This lack of predictability increases hypervigilance and threat perception.

Sometimes my clients report that their dog seems to be looking for something to react to, even when nothing is there. As if they’re seeking it out. As if they like to lose their minds. They feel confused. Is their dog having fun?

But hypervigilance is an adaptive response to an unpredictable world full of threats. When danger lurks around every corner, the safest, most protective thing to do is to stay alert. To sleep with one eye open. To react to every movement or noise. To assume danger and check the reality of that later.

Safe people help to create predictability. Predictability here does not mean rigidity, perfectionism, or strict routines. Here, predictability means a reliable pattern of response, especially during dysregulation.

When dogs struggle with dysregulation, trust is sometimes precarious. We may not trust our dogs, and they may not trust us. Many of my clients list one of their main goals as being able to trust their dogs; sometimes they list wanting to be someone their dog trusts because they believe (correctly or incorrectly) that their dog does not trust them.

Trust is built through repetition. Through familiar responses. Through behavior that doesn’t swing wildly across mood or context. Through lived experience, predicting that feeling stressed doesn’t make us explode or disappear entirely.

Trust is not about always getting it right. It’s about responding in ways our dogs recognize. It’s about being someone our dog can recognize.

As a human with a complex trauma history, who is also Autistic, with ADHD, I am not always a predictable person across states. Sitting with that is uncomfortable, because I would like to be.

I can recognize how that truth has impacted my dogs differently. My dogs with less sensitive nervous systems perceive less threat than Amore does. Amore has experienced chronic dysregulation throughout her life, and I took on the role of her caregiver when I was only 21 and didn’t even know what dysregulation meant, though I certainly had a lifetime of experience with it.

My own healing has had a direct and positive impact on Amore’s perception of her own safety. I can show up for her in a much more consistent and predictable way than I could 13 years ago. And, I still have a nervous system that triggers more easily than the average bear’s. I am imperfect in catching my own dysregulation early enough to avoid piquing her perception of threat. I am not always predictable, not even to myself.

I must be able to say, “I am doing the very best I can, and sometimes it’s not good enough to prevent harm from occurring.”

I offer this to you as a reminder that perfection is not our goal, and that in a few pages, we’ll discuss repair. Being able to acknowledge harm and engage in repair is an essential part of being a safe person because even safe people are not perfectly regulated all the time.  Dysregulation is not a defect. You are not broken or unworthy.

Emotional Attunement

One way we can offer predictability and therefore safety to our dogs is by being emotionally attuned.

Attunement means proportional responses. It means not responding to a small stressor with greater stress, and not responding to greater stress as an inconvenience. It means being responsive when our dogs communicate their emotions, even in quiet ways.

When our dogs can predict that we respond to their stress by settling, rather than spiking, they don’t have to prepare for escalation as a part of their dysregulation.

When our dogs are activated, or about to be, we might reach for control to attempt to regulate ourselves. Micromanaging feels predictable to us, but chaotic to our dogs. It generally involves rapid-fire processing, sensory input, quickly shifting expectations, increased pressure and attention, and reduced agency and autonomy.

It is also true, that it is adaptive and normal for us to become heightened when we perceive our dog may become dysregulated. We see another dog, and our heart beats faster, knowing our dog might react. We might even notice this reaction when our dog isn’t present.

I am always much more concerned when someone isn’t worried about their dog’s reactions. That is much harder to teach. It’s good that you care about your safety, and your dog’s safety, and the safety of those around you.

Two things can be true: we can notice the potential for threat, and we can respond in a way that signals safety. Our goal is to be steady enough – not apathetic.

Can we notice our own activation and take a moment to ground ourselves? Can we take a deep breath, unclench our jaw, and relax our arms? Can we empower ourselves with skills we know will help our dog navigate this situation, so that we can feel confident in supporting them through this?

Counter to our impulses, less intervention often creates more regulation. We can be present for our dogs without contributing to the overwhelm. We can respond to what the dog needs, versus what helps us feel better in the moment.

When we respond consistently and proportionally, we increase predictability and trust and decrease threat.

Consistency that regulates is about response to distress, not about rules. It isn’t about always enforcing the same rules and being rigid in our application. It isn’t about perfectionism.

We want our dogs to know that their stress leads to support, not punishment. That their communication of distress leads to space, not increased pressure. That dysregulation leads to de-escalation and safety, not demand.

Safety Supports Agency

Agency is the belief that one can impact their environment, and it’s heavily correlated to lower stress levels, increased resilience to stress, and overall increases in well-being.

Our dogs tend to have very low levels of agency, and dysregulated dogs tend to have even less. Like how we must intentionally work to be safe people for our dogs, we have to intentionally incorporate agency into their lives.

Agency directly reduces threat. Agency reduces the need for intensity because the nervous system doesn’t have to escalate to be heard.

Agency can look like giving the dog choices (real choices), building communication (real communication, heavy on us listening), and incorporating consent. It means clear exits, predictable options, and a timeline that reflects the dog’s pace.

Agency matters most when our dogs are dysregulated, which is when we tend to become most restrictive. We ignore their “no” for the sake of convenience. We require participation. We remove safety to motivate behavior (hello, planned ignoring). We require calm behavior to meet basic needs.

We can create agency by moving away when our dog is stressed, rather than flooding them; by giving them a chance to process and disengage on their own when it’s safe to do so; by reducing our demands; by respecting their hesitation or freezing as communication.

A nervous system with agency returns to baseline faster and more easily, and engages more fully when participating.

I see this all the time with my clients. When we consistently empower the dog to move away when they first start to express quiet discomfort, they reapproach with renewed curiosity.

Safety Stays Present Through Dysregulation

Safety asks, “What happens when things fall apart?”

When connection is only available to the learner when they are calm, quiet, or still, threat escalates. Dysregulation becomes a threat to relationships, support, and connection.

Safety stays connected, stays present, even when stress occurs, so that stress doesn’t predict a break in connection. This is hard work.

Being present is not the same as fixing everything. Yes, when we can increase environmental management to reduce stress for our dogs, we absolutely should. This is not about sitting idly by while they struggle.

But we can also prioritize remaining emotionally and physically accessible (when safe to do so). We can avoid turning away, ignoring, or isolating (unless that reduces threat for our dogs).

Presence does not mean hovering, crowding, non-consensual touch, or forced closeness. Our emotional presence can be communicated through body orientation, stillness or gentle and predictable movement, a tone that stays soft, and a proximity that feels safest to our dog.

We might stay close by without engaging, if that’s what our dog needs. We can take space without disappearing. We can adapt the environment rather than asking our dogs to push through. We can reduce stimulation. We can slow down and honor what our dog needs from us to feel safest.

It’s normal to feel the urge to withdraw when our dog becomes dysregulated. We withdraw because we don’t want to reinforce unwanted behavior. We feel overwhelmed. We respond to conditioning that’s taught us to ignore distress. We leave because we’re afraid of making things worse.

From the dog’s perspective, our withdrawal can increase distress. It can make escalation or shut down a requirement for connection and safety. 

So what do we do?

Safety doesn’t require us to suppress our own emotions. Rather, it requires us to manage the impact of our emotions.

We can take breaks as we need to, without abandoning our dog to deal with their big feelings on our own. We can engage in self-regulating (or co-regulating) behaviors without demanding our dogs be regulated so we can feel safe. We can validate our own feelings and seek support from ourselves or our support system, without making our emotions our dog’s responsibility.

Staying present tells our dogs that they don’t have to be okay to be safe. It shortens their recovery time, reduces further escalation, builds trust, and makes repair possible.

When Safety Breaks

Safety will break. I have tried to allude to this throughout the article, to soften the blow.   

When safety breaks, it can feel like sudden unpredictability or increased pressure. It can feel like a loss of agency or a withdrawal of connection. Safety breaking can feel like an escalation of control.

We might be perfectly regulated, but find that the solutions to our dog’s needs are contraindicated, like when a scared dog needs urgent medical care.

We might find that their needs conflict with our needs, like when they seek us out for social support, but our own nervous systems can’t take one more demand without breaking.

We may find that we exist within systems that are not supportive of us and our needs, or the care we give our dogs.

We get overwhelmed. We misread signals. We prioritize outcomes over experience. We operate from our own dysregulation.

We micromanage in moments of anxiety. We push through where we should have pulled back. We raise criteria when our dog is already stressed. We use obedience or compliance to manage our own discomfort.

We treat dysregulation as something that must be solved, immediately.

We withdraw when we feel helpless or resentful. We minimize, dismiss, ignore.

It is the reality of being human.

Breaks in safety don’t require malice or intent. They are more likely when we are also stressed, when our own needs aren’t met, and when our own support systems are lacking.

Safety breaks fastest when we equate behavior to effort, worth, respect, or relationship quality. When we feel out of control, judged, or responsible. When we move away from curiosity and gratitude and toward coercion and control.

The question isn’t how to prevent ruptures in safety from ever happening. Relationships that lack ruptures often lack intimacy and connection as well. Relationship is messy. Connection is imperfect. Rather, the question is, how do we create repair when ruptures occur?

Ruptures can be an opportunity for relational growth when we engage in repair. Without repair, ruptures accumulate, and trust erodes. Regulation becomes harder.

Repair can look like verbally and physically communicating to our dogs that we recognize the rupture. We can do this through our body language and tone. By making space. By slowing down.

Repair means taking responsibility for our behaviors without centering our own guilt or shame, or moral judgment of our dog.

Repair looks like restoring access to support, proximity, or environmental security. This can look like physical comfort or space. It looks like consistency and predictability. It looks like restoring agency.

Rather than demanding our dogs become calm, we can make safety available again and wait. This is hard.

Sometimes repair takes time. This is especially true when we’re early in becoming safe people for our dogs or when the rupture is very big.

We can continue our predictable patterns of response. We can avoid overcorrecting or escalating our own behavior in response to the break. We can move at the dog’s pace.

Dysregulation and rupture are not failures – they are opportunities for repair.

Conclusion

You’ve just read more than a dozen pages on being a safe person for your dog. You stayed despite content that may have been activating. You (hopefully) took breaks when you needed them and returned.

Your dog is fortunate to have someone who cares very much.

The type of person you’re afraid of being doesn’t read articles like this.

Remember, you’re only human. Your commitment to growth for yourself and for your dog is powerful.

I hope you give yourself the same support and care you give to your dog. They are fortunate to have someone who cares so very much.

Additional Resources

• The Myth of Non-Compliance Webinar

• Safe Relationships, Safe Places webinar

• Podcast Interview: Disability Justice and Animal Welfare (Enrichment for the Real World)

• Rethinking Demand Barking

• Should I Ignore My Dog?

• Some of my favorite educators on creating relational safety: Dog at Heart, Luchi and Muttons, Canine Consilience, BHARCS