When my sister Claire first mentioned how she curbs her dog’s “petty crimes,” I had to pause. Her strategy isn’t typical dog training—it’s all about treats. Claire always carries dog snacks with her, using them as a form of positive reinforcement to prevent Percy, her Portuguese water dog, from shoplifting at the pet store. So far, this method has worked like a charm—Percy hasn’t been caught with a toy in tow.
It’s a surprising tactic, but it made me realize that maybe we could learn something from it.
Dog training has always been a challenge for us. Despite our best efforts, we’ve struggled to teach Farrah, our latest adopted canine, basic commands. Farrah, a German shepherd-Corgi mix weighing just 25 pounds, has an independent streak. If I call her name, she doesn’t even bother to acknowledge me. However, clap your hands, and she’ll be sprinting to the car, eager for a ride—anything to get in the backseat.
Dinner time? Forget it. Farrah will leave her food untouched until she decides it’s time to eat. It’s almost as if she’s intentionally defying me. It’s frustrating, to say the least.
Farrah’s day is a whirlwind of high energy followed by moments of intense vigilance. From her perch in the windows, she’s on constant lookout for squirrels, cats, and even a coyote that made an unexpected appearance at 2 a.m. last week. I woke up to her growls, followed by fierce barks, as she stood on the couch, hackles raised, watching the yard.
I called out to her, “What’s up, Farrah? It’s too early for this.” Naturally, she ignored me, continuing her watch. Finally, I gave the command “stop!” which had zero effect. It wasn’t until the lights turned on and the coyote, caught in the reflection of the snow, retreated into the neighbor’s yard that Farrah calmed down. She returned to her bed, but only after her successful guarding mission.
Over the years, we’ve had our share of dogs—most of whom we’ve managed to train to respond to their names and basic commands like “come” and “stop.” We even enrolled Binky, our previous dog, in a class at the Rhode Island School for the Deaf (ironically, for dogs that didn’t respond to their names). Binky was a bit of a slacker in the class but at least learned to come when called.
Then there’s Claire’s dog, Percy, who’s a bit of an outlier. While Percy is generally well-behaved, he has a particular quirk—he’s a shoplifter. Percy has a habit of sneaking off with toys when Claire visits a pet store near Springfield, Massachusetts. Rather than scolding him, Claire simply offers him a treat, and Percy drops the toy. She returns it to the shelf, and the store remains none the wiser.
This got me thinking—maybe the secret to more effective training isn’t about strict discipline. Perhaps it’s about positive reinforcement, recognizing moments when things could go wrong and steering them toward a more positive outcome. If I could respond to Farrah’s stubbornness with patience and the occasional treat, maybe we’d get closer to teaching her basic commands.
It’s a simple idea, but imagine how it could work in everyday life—not just with dogs but with people, too. Sometimes, a little encouragement and kindness can go a long way in fostering better behavior.
Perhaps when Farrah ignores me, I should try a new tactic: offer a treat, praise her when she does the right thing, and, who knows, maybe we’ll finally make some progress.