What is Person Centered Dog Training?

Michael Baugh CDBC

Person-centered dog training begins with an idea from psychologist Carl Rogers, one of the founders of humanistic psychology. Rogers believed people have a natural capacity for growth and change, and that the right relationship can bring it out. He first called his approach client-centered therapy and later referred to it as person-centered therapy. Instead of the expert “fixing” the client, Rogers taught that clients themselves can guide their own progress when met with empathy, acceptance, and authenticity.

I’ve studied Carl Rogers for over thirty years. His contributions are more than a series of techniques. In fact, he referred to the person-centered approach as a “way of being.” And his influence extended far beyond the therapist-client relationship. Rogers taught his person-centered way of being to health care providers, parents, educators, and even world leaders. Today, person-centered techniques are the norm in all forms of therapy, and we see their impact in business leadership, ministry, and coaching.

What is most important about the person-centered way of being?

Relationship is everything. Whether it’s a therapist and a client, a teacher and a student, a father and a son, a doctor and a patient, or a dog behavior consultant and a dog guardian, their relationship is the intervention. That’s a bold statement. But if we remember the foundational idea that humans have an innate capacity for growth and change, it’s easy to see how the right learning relationship and environment can make that happen.

What makes a person-centered relationship work?

Empathy — deeply understanding another’s internal world and communicating that understanding. Empathy is an early twentieth-century translation of the German word Einfühlung, which literally means “in-feeling.” We could say we are feeling into our client’s experience.
Unconditional Positive Regard — accepting the other person without judgment or conditions, affirming their worth regardless of behavior. This can be hard.
Congruence (authenticity) — in our discussion, this is the dog behavior consultant being genuine and transparent, rather than hiding behind a professional or social façade. We trainers sometimes struggle with this. Let’s own our expertise. Let’s also show up with a healthy dose of humor and humility. Be you. It’s enough.

What are the challenges of person-centered dog training?

In psychotherapy, clients find their own way to solutions with the help of the person-centered relationship. Remember, the relationship is the thing.

In education, teachers create an environment with resources, but the learners guide their own experience. This was revolutionary in the mid-twentieth century, and the ideas live on today.

Dog training is rarely this self-directed. We’re used to giving clients a list of tasks, with a right and wrong way to do each one. Too often, we:

Dismiss clients’ training ideas.
Criticize their past attempts (even when some were successful).
Insist on rigid “trainer-approved” methods.

That kind of teaching wrecks the trainer–client relationship. It’s also the opposite of a person-centered approach.

How does a person-centered dog trainer make room for client self-direction?

We show up with empathy, authenticity, and unconditional positive regard. We’re not perfect, but we are ourselves. From that place, we help clients gain the skills and knowledge they need to work with their dogs, and to solve problems on their own.

Here’s what that looks like in practice:

Let clients set their own goals. It’s their dog, not yours.
Honor their skills and experience. Ask what has worked and what hasn’t. Build on the good, set aside the rest.
Share new dog training skills as options. Explain why you think they may help, then let clients choose which to learn.
Offer resources. Point clients to videos, articles, or handouts so they can learn independently.
Encourage creativity. Ask what the client has tried, reinforce smart solutions, and integrate them into the plan. (One client showed me how mat training diffused an object-guarding problem. It was brilliant.)
Celebrate wins. Clients will want to give you credit, but keep the focus on them. They did the work. You provided the relationship and environment for learning to happen.

Carl Rogers’ person-centered approach reminds us that people learn and grow best in relationships built on empathy, acceptance, and authenticity. When we apply this to dog training, we empower our clients to take ownership of their learning, to make choices, to become fully involved. If all this sounds familiar, it’s because we’ve been teaching dogs like this for years, some of us for decades.

“I feel enriched when I can truly prize or care for or love another person and when I can let that feeling flow out to that person.” (Rogers, A Way of Being, 1980). My dear prized trainer friends, this is why we get up each morning. We change dogs’ lives; we save them sometimes. And we are doing the same for our fellow humans. Let that sink in. Smile on it. This is who we are.

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

What Does Behavior Have To Do With My Dog’s Health?

Dogs don’t just express themselves through cute quirks. They are also communicating their physical and mental health. Our dogs’ behavior and health are deeply intertwined.

How Does My Dog’s Health Affect Behavior?

Pain, illness or injury often show up first as behavior changes. Pacing, panting, withdrawing, sleeping more, or suddenly acting aggressive are all signs. Dogs can’t tell us when their joints ache or their stomach hurts, so behavior is a key early warning sign.
Hormonal and metabolic shifts can modify energy levels, mood, reactivity.
Chronic stress, fear or anxiety has measurable physiological effects like higher cortisol, altered immune function. For example, dogs with fear/anxiety disorders are more likely to get skin disorders and other immune or hormonal issues. (Dreschel 2010)

Early intervention is key. Any sudden change in behavior, especially in an adult dog, should begin with a thorough veterinary assessment.

How Does My Dog’s Behavior Affect Health?

Persistent anxiety in dogs keeps stress systems activated. Over time, that is linked to poorer immune function, greater risk of infections, slower healing, and shortened lifespan. (Dreschel 2010)
Poor sleep or disrupted activity cycles and also increased disease risk, especially on older dogs. (Modino 2014)

Euthanasia related to canine behavior issues is one of the leading causes of death in young, otherwise healthy dogs.

The encouraging news is that behavior can change. In fact, change is the nature of behavior in dogs (and humans).

What Every Vet Should Know About Behavior Change.

In practice, vets should screen for behavioral signs just as they do for physical ones: ask owners about noises that scare the dog, separation behavior, aggression, changes in sleep or appetite. Early detection means interventions can start before behavior problems worsen. Baseline interventions include:

Positive reinforcement training (rewarding desired behavior) is supported by both behavior science and welfare research. It tends to produce more reliable, less stressful results than aversive or punishment-based methods. It improves trust between dog and human, reduces fear.
Classical conditioning (associating neutral or formerly negative stimuli with positive outcomes) helps reshape emotional responses—for example reducing fear of loud noises, strangers, or new environments.
Medical Treatment by a licensed veterinarian is part of many behavior change plans, even when there is not an underlying physical malady. This often the case with dogs who have significant anxiety, fear, or aggression.

Two Professions Working Together.

Qualified trainers and certified dog behavior consultants will flag behavior changes that require a veterinary visit. Medical intervention can go a long way in changing even the most troubling behavior issues. Similarly, excellent veterinarians will have behavior professional to whom they can refer for behavioral functional analysis and intervention.

Your dog’s behavior is one of the clearest windows into his health. Behavioral changes often precede obvious medical signs. At the same time, behavior itself can contribute to disease risk, reduced well‐being, and even shorter lifespan. For veterinarians (and for dog owners) addressing behavior proactively using evidence‐based methods like positive reinforcement operant and classical conditioning isn’t just about better manners. It’s about longer, healthier, happier lives.

The Gift of a “Perfect” Dog

Michael Baugh CDBC CPDT-KSA

I sit on the floor because I’m having a moment. Okay, here’s the truth. When I say I’m having a moment I mean I’m having a cry. Stella, my old retriever mix, gets up slowly and walks over to me. I don’t know why I’m crying. Maybe it was a sad story on the radio or an email about a client’s dog. Maybe neither of us knows why I’m crying but here she is, leaning in, sniffing my face, the tears. And, maybe neither of us knows why she walked over to me, why she is so gentle, why she seems to care. It’s just her way. And, here’s the other truth. It’s why I’m sitting on the floor. This is her gift and she offers it just the same every time and I know that.

This will be the summer that Stella turns 13. She was 5-months when I pointed to her cage at the Houston SPCA and said “That one. I want her.” We didn’t know she was sick at first , distemper, respiratory then neurological, usually fatal. But, I knew what we were up against when we finally got the diagnosis. The week after we adopted Stella distemper swept through the SPCA and killed half the dogs there. The first time I sat on the floor and cried with Stella was a couple weeks after we brought her home. I was holding her. She was all legs even then, twitching uncontrollably, crying because she was so uncomfortable, crying because she didn’t know why. I was crying because I did.

That was the worst night. The ones after were better. Stella did what we all hoped for but didn’t dare say aloud. She lived. She lived for months and then years and then a decade and more. She learned to swim and to dive and to climb steep paths to the top of red rocks. Stella grew to be strong and clever and awkward and weird. She is long-legged and small-headed and remarkably beautiful but only at just the right angle. And even now I sometimes look at her and think, that one. .

We brought Stewie home when Stella was barely 18-months. He was small and scrappy, fresh from a run through a tropical storm and a close call with a speeding car. The vet said he was 2 or 3. He had a collar but no tags. Testicles but no microchip. I put up signs and called the shelters but no one claimed him. And, here’s the truth. I could understand why. He was a hot mess, shitting and pissing indiscriminately, claws like an iguana and a piercing scream at the sight of nail clippers. He wasn’t crate trained or leash trained or anything trained. No wonder no one claimed him except us. My partner, Tim, was at the sink when he rather stoically pointed to Stewie and said (as if issuing an edict) “We can keep him.”

Stewie learned potty training and pedicures, but also paths to the top of red rocks. That brush with a fast-moving car faded with quickly passing years (though, he’s still afraid of storms). Stewie is about 14 or 15 now, the last 12 with us. It’s been 12 years of Stella and Stewie, of I want her and we can keep him. It’s been hard for a long time to imagine one without the other, each of them so a part of the other, so a part of us. They were each a gift, dubious and imperfect. Now they are treasured gifts, imperfect still, but perfectly fitted to our lives and to our hearts.

We all want the perfect dog. But, here’s the truth. Perfect isn’t packaged up for us to get. It’s not the right breed, or the right breeder, or the right boot camp we send our dog away to. Perfect is years of giving. Perfect is vet visits and cleaning up messes and nail trims. Perfect is swims and leash walks and hikes up steep red-rock paths. Perfect is awkward and scrappy, her and him, month after month, year after year. Perfect isn’t something you buy. Perfect is something you create, the giving and the receiving, the forging of a friendship (maybe a best friendship), with a being who will never speak a word but communicates so beautifully nonetheless. Perfect is earned. Perfect is dried tears at the end of the day, near the end of a life well lived, with a good girl and a good boy, on the floor.

Stella walks up stiff-legged, her face next to mine, and I lean into the thick fur around her neck that doesn’t quite match the rest of her body. Such an odd-looking dog. Awkward. Perfect.

Michael Baugh specializes in aggressive dog training in Houston, TX