Our Dogs are not Babies and That’s Okay

Michael Baugh CDBC

I call Charlie “baby” all the time. He’s not a baby. He’s definitely not a “fur baby” (ugh). He’s a dog.

Still, I understand why people drift toward treating dogs like children. We live closely with them. We organize our days around them. They watch us constantly, learn our rhythms, wait for us, comfort us. Somewhere in that exchange, affection starts borrowing language.

But dogs are not failed humans or substitute children. They are something rarer: fully and completely dogs.

Back in the early 2000s, author Jon Katz argued that dogs were taking on a new role in human life. In The New Work of Dogs, he wrote that dogs were no longer primarily our hunting partners, guardians, or herders. They were becoming companions in a deeper emotional sense — life partners more than work partners. He saw the shift early.

He was right.

People around the world are having fewer children than they once did, while dog ownership continues to rise. Those trends do not automatically mean one replaces the other, but it is hard not to notice how emotionally central dogs have become in modern life. For many people, they are daily companionship in an increasingly isolated world.

Of course we become attached. Dogs evolved beside us for thousands of years. They are unusually attuned to human behavior in ways few animals are. Charlie knows I’m leaving before I’ve found my keys. He notices changes in tone before I realize my mood has shifted. He can be asleep across the room and somehow still detect the exact moment someone opens a bag of shredded cheese.

Dogs pay attention.

Not the way humans do. Their awareness is different from ours, shaped by senses and instincts we barely understand. We move through the world visually. Dogs move through it by scent. Every walk becomes a flood of information invisible to us. That patch of grass they refuse to leave alone may contain an entire neighborhood newspaper written in smell.

And they live through their bodies in ways we mostly forgot how to. They sprint, twist, climb, sniff, wrestle, chase, roll in things they absolutely should not roll in. Even old dogs retain some spark of that physical joy. Watch a dog explode into a run across an open field and try not to envy it a little.

This is part of why calling dogs “babies” never quite fits. Babies grow into adults. Dogs grow more fully into themselves. The relationship is different. Cross-species, ancient, strange. Wolves came one direction; humans another. Yet somehow we met in the middle and decided to stay.

That bond deserves more than projection.

Love your dog for what your dog actually is. Play tug. Throw the ball again even though your shoulder hurts. Let them stop and sniff every ridiculous spot on the walk. Learn the signals they use to communicate instead of demanding constant obedience like you’re programming a machine. Sit with them on cold evenings. Feel the weight of them leaning against your leg or curled against your chest. There is trust in that weight.

Call them “baby” if you want. I probably still will too.

Just remember: the beautiful creature asleep beside you is not pretending to be human. Not even close. That scruffy, athletic, scent-driven little beast is something older and weirder than that.

A dog. Entirely dog.

Michael Baugh teaches dog training in Sedona Arizona and Houston Texas. He specializes in aggressive dog training.

Are We Asking Too Much of Our Dogs?

Michael Baugh CDBC

In 2003, Jon Katz published The New Work of Dogs. He was prescient. Humans were becoming more isolated, divided, and lonely. Dogs, he predicted, would fill the void, becoming surrogates for the human connections we couldn’t find or keep. Even then, our athletic hunters and protectors were trading in their physical roles for emotional ones. Heart Dogs saw us through life’s changes, relationships, heartbreak, big wins and losses.

The New Role of Dogs

We humans have a tendency to change our world faster than we can sometimes keep up. Cultural evolution now outpaces biological evolution. Our brains were built for small tribes and slow change, not endless notifications and global crisis feeds. It’s no wonder we are so stressed. And so sick. So, we look to our dogs for a moment of warmth, some playful nonsense, a bit of meaningful connection.

Here’s the problem, and Katz knew it. All these changes in our lives are putting dogs under new pressures. When I first started as a trainer in 1999, therapy dogs were a novelty. Psychiatric service dogs and emotional support dogs were very rare. Now, they are commonplace. Dogs used to herd and protect cattle, to flush and retrieve game, and to guard property. Today we discourage them from doing any of those things. Instead, we want them to take care of us.

We Changed Their Story

Dogs didn’t change. We haven’t changed all that much either. But we rewrote the storyline. Fast. It’s too much for us. It’s too much for our dogs. And here we are, in counseling and on meds — both of us. And somewhere in the quiet moments, we know something just isn’t right.

What Can We Do Now?

Be with your dog. Your dog is a living, feeling, thinking being. Not a checklist of problems to fix. Spend time with your dog in whatever way makes sense now. We are in this together, changing together, trying to keep up together. Dogs don’t live long. Neither do we. Don’t waste a minute.
Move. We need motion to stay healthy. So does your herder, your retriever, your terrier (or any of the aforementioned mixed). Play with your dog. Learn with your dog.
Get outside. Let your dog sniff. Leave your phone at home and let your eyes wander. Get away from other dogs if it’s safer and follow your dog to follow unfamiliar scents. Some of us call these decompression walks.
Stop outsourcing your dog’s life. Daycare and board-and-trains can be useful. But they are not a substitute for you. That might be a hard line to read. I’m sorry. Humans are clever. We’ve created services to ease ourselves of the burden of having a dog, when all we ever really wanted was … a dog.

Lean into discomfort (together). If we’ve put our social and technological lives on hyper-drive, we’re going to feel it. Our dogs will feel it too. The human and canine brains do not evolve that fast. So, it’s not a matter of keeping up. We have to adapt.

Let your dog turn to you for support. He’s not your therapist or your emotional anchor. You are his. Own that. What about us? We have to turn toward each other. Rekindle an old friendship. Go to book club, or pickleball, or mahjong (whatever your thing is). Be with people. We’re not that bad. And let’s make peace with ourselves. Pray. Meditate. Read inspiring books. See inspiring films. Listen to music.

Take a deep breath. You’re alive.

And damn, look at that dog you have. So sweet. And those eyes. I wonder what’s going on behind those eyes.

Michael Baugh teaches dog training in Sedona, Arizona and Houston, Texas. He specializes in aggressive dog training.

Myth Busting Clicker Training

Michael Baugh CDBC

I’ve clicker trained for a long time, and I can honestly say it remains one of the most impactful tools I teach my clients. If you have used it yourself, you know what I mean. If you haven’t tried it yet, I can’t wait for you to experience how fast dogs learn with it.

Clicker training works because it gives the dog an immediate, consistent signal that marks exactly the behavior you want them to repeat. The click is not a command, it’s not the treat itself, and it certainly does not make the dog behave on its own. It simply tells the dog, Yes. That was the right behavior and then you follow it with food reinforcement. Dogs learn because that click reliably predicts something great is coming. This kind of immediate feedback dramatically accelerates their understanding of what you’re asking for.

One of the first things clients notice when they pick up a clicker is that it changes their timing and focus. When you are concentrating on clicking at that exact moment you see the correct behavior, it naturally hones your observation skills. Many people find themselves less likely to dive into the treat bag too early. They are watching, clicking, and then treating.

There are some common myths about clicker training that I want to clear up because they often keep people from giving it a real shot. One of the biggest misconceptions is that you have to have the clicker with you all the time, or else your dog will forget everything they learned. That could not be further from the truth. Clickers are tools for the learning phase of a behavior. Once a task becomes fluent and reliable, you can set the clicker aside. Your dog will still perform the behavior; they just don’t need the marker anymore. You might still reinforce with treats or praise periodically, but the clicker itself is retired for that command.

Another myth is that the clicker makes the dog perform. Some people think the sound of the clicker somehow causes the dog to behave. That misinterpretation leads to confusion, especially when a dog doesn’t respond without the clicker in hand. In reality, the clicker teaches the dog to understand exactly what behavior earned reinforcement. It’s a marker. A bridge. A communication shortcut. Nothing more, nothing less.

Some trainers worry that dogs will be dependent on constant clickers and treats forever, but that is also incorrect. Once the behavior is strong, predictable, and reliable, you can begin to thin the rewards. The power of clicker training is that once the learning has happened, the dog remembers the behavior without holding you hostage to the tool.

The bottom line is that clicker training is science-based, positive reinforcement dog training that fosters fast learning, clear communication, and a strong bond between dog and handler. It’s not magic, but it sure feels like it when an “aha” moment clicks for both you and your dog.

Michael Baugh is a dog trainer in Houston, TX. He specializes in aggressive dog training.