Enthusiasm versus Compliance in Competition Obedience — Social Media Effect

It’s difficult to believe that a blogger named Sticky Tricky is running on and on about competition level obedience — speaking on the intricacies of a balance between genuine enthusiasm, veiled disobedience, drive-building, hand-eye coordination, precision, and level of impulse control needed, not only by the handler, but the dog as well. But alas, this is where we find ourselves twiddling our thumbs.

As with most niche interests and hobbies, sport dog training has seen an immense shift from traditional compulsion methods in the 80s/90s to more motivation-based methods. This was highly influenced by the onset of social media early on — blog posts, which later became Instagram carousels, TikTok clips, and YouTube ‘How-To’ videos. Most early creators aimed to provide more counseling than soul-searching to the lost dog owner who scoured night and day for some guidance on Fido’s midnight incontinence. But somewhere along the way, we’ve witnessed more so of a fight for privilege for our four legged companions. Many were opening up conversation topics about psychological studies to learning theory — Pavlov, and Skinner’s Box being the two most quoted studies. Training sessions didn’t need to be driven solely on punishment, but behavior can be molded by existential factors like food, toys, play, access to freedom, etc. So how were people handling this information? Well, once the conversation began, owners and handlers alike were looking at their dogs beginning to realize that a motivated dog is more satisfying to watch than an obedient dog. Once we channeled that motivation, our companions started to act more and more like Rin Tin Tin and less like Marley from Marley and Me.

So many viral videos picture the star pupil breeds, border collies, belgian malinois, german shepherds, and more, that perform a variety of tricks, seemingly impossible to the average owner. But to what surprise that the dogs seem to genuinely enjoy their discomfort in performing the obedience commands. There’s no tail tucking, pinned ears, curved back — contrary to compulsion, these dogs are begging their owners to learn what’s next! This led to the paradigm shift in training from sheer compliance to more enthusiasm and putting more value into the emotion/synergy both dog and handler demonstrate together.

Anecdotally, in my training circles, there’s more emphasis on engagement and a happy picture than any obedience cue being put into play. It’s a subtle message that’s strung across most posts — If your dog isn’t happy doing working for you, you need to do better. So what’s the problem? Motivational training leads to a happier dog, happier handler and everyone leaves satisfied! Well… Let me take you along my emotion.

As I moved forward in training with my puppy, she wasn’t the picture perfect puppy I’ve seen in the media I’d consumed for the past 4–6 years. Although I followed the advice of some of the greats, utilizing existential food, engaging her in play, crating her to maximize her energy during training, and socializing her appropriately. I still found she didn’t have the same tenacity that these social media dogs possessed. My ego was bruised to say the least. It was a grand wake up call to the idea that my working dog wasn’t at all what I expected. With so much media to digest about your dog doing A and react with B, there’s a huge oversight on one consideration. As living beings, each and every dog has their own personality — their own intrinsic motivations, sociability, preferences, etc. It seems so blatantly obvious, but the truth hit me like a grand piano falling from a 10-story building.

While I trained and trained, I met quite a few colleagues of the sport outside of social media and their handling told a different story as to what they showed. Each training session with mistakes, stumbles, and unexpected holes. This isn’t to say that mistakes, stumbles, and unexpected holes are undesirable or avoidable by any means, but it’s quite the experience to witness them in person compared to the social media persona. It’s not the picturesque montage of precision heeling with ideal head position and rhythm — with tight about turns and quick rear-end awareness. It’s raw and real. And as you observe more, you begin to realize that social media posts are the highlights to any shitty session.

So I would go home each day pondering to my puppy, if I’m not striving for perfection or this ideal that I’ve realized doesn’t exist, how can I fake it with you until we make it?