By Chuck Oseroff, MD
[Summer 2007; Vol. 33, No. 3; Pg. 10]
“Dogs
are just like people.
If they can get away with it they will.”
I looked at our three month old dachshund puppy Louie, who looked right
back up at me, and had to shake my head.
The trainer was right. He was unbelievably cute . . . and just as
stubborn.
Tonight’s
lesson was about teaching our little ones to sit.
Our trainer, Melanie, smiled patiently and wore a knowing look as she
taught us to calm our dogs in our laps first. What a good idea.
Bouncing puppies have no interest in sitting.
I chuckled to myself when she chose to demonstrate, using the most
energetic, wild and frenetic hound of the bunch.
Within seconds she had the young dog back on its haunches and watching
her expectantly, as if it had sat all its life to command.
I was mesmerized.
Her voice,
posture, and movements and the way she reinforced for success seemed
simple and effortless. Faith rose within me that I could just do what she did
and obedience would follow.
I couldn’t wait for my turn.
But somehow, in front of the rest of the class, my unconscious, inner
struggle to manage my own aggressive impulses and the need to be liked and loved
had me yanking on the leash and waving my hands wildly while trying to bluff my
new family member into obedience.
Thank
goodness there are trainers.
Without training, these pups, these adorable, cute receivers and givers
of love and affection who are somehow supposed to know our rules and
expectations and how to read our signals and meet our demands on command would
not be socialized.
They would not do what we wanted but what they wanted--not unlike
children.
I’ve
thought a lot about Puppy Class recently, particularly as I restrained a
thrashing, eight year old boy in my office, his body twisting up, around and
sideways as he tried to prove that he could get away with kicking his mother
while threatening to punch me in the balls.
(And, as I take a glove from Louie after he’s chewed a hole in it even
as I type, it seems that training never ends.)
I have spent hours in the office with families, usually not restraining
their young “pups” but mostly talking with parents about how to tame the
wildness of youth so that age begets reason and mature action rather than
entitlement, self-indulgence and high stakes manipulation.
Just like Puppy Class, the concepts are simple.
We must be loving, clear in our communications, consistent in what we say
and how we say it, and act as venerable alpha dogs who by our presence, command
attention and respect.
It
is our aggressive impulses, or frequently our discomfort with them, that
typically get in the way of successful parenting.
We’re either too controlling or too permissive, not harnessing our
power in a useful way.
These days I counsel parents to be comfortable being
Bigger-Faster-Stronger-Wiser-Kinder-Gentler as a package deal, in that order,
not the other way around.
Letting a child’s cuteness bring out the Gentler-Kinder-Wiser side of
you feels good, warm and fuzzy, but it undermines your authority.
You have to be comfortable with and knowledgeable about your
Bigger-Faster-Stronger side and all its parts so that you can be a credible
force and a touchstone of safety and security, not just “The Punisher” who
shows up after the fact. This is the foundation on which you can forever build a
Wiser-Kinder-Gentler way of life.
If
we wait too long, our puppies and our children will avoid our attempts to give
them advice and direction.
We end up passively pleading, endlessly repeating meaningless commands
and setting empty limits or growling a stern “you-will-do-it-my-way” that
falls on deaf ears.
And we run the risk that they may end up someday like many of our
adolescent patients; out of control and too big to handle.
We have to face the fact that to have a good run at life, they
shouldn’t have the run of the house.