What Being a Positive Reinforcement Dog Trainer Means to Me
I proudly call myself a positive reinforcement dog trainer. Sometimes I refer to myself as a reward based dog trainer, a force-free dog trainer or a fear-free dog trainer. There are several names I (and my like-minded colleagues) go by because to be honest, none of these terms fit quite right. The science jargon and the layman’s terms don’t align, so I haven’t found the perfect “title.” Until I do, the name I call myself may fluctuate, but in almost 15 years in the animal training field, my values have never once wavered, nor will they ever.
My values are simple- I believe in training with kindness, compassion and empathy. I do not believe in using force, pain, intimidation or fear.
Unfortunately, not all dog trainers agree with me. We’re not all bred equally. Some trainers, including some that have gained a lot of popularity through TV and social media, use techniques that elicit fear, stress and pain, to which they justify it by saying, “It works. Look at the results I just got. This dog went from barking, lunging and biting to ‘obedient’” (Most of the dogs aren’t obedient, they’re shut down, but that’s a topic for a different day).
Growing up, like so many others, I watched a certain TV celebrity dog trainer and thought the same thing that a lot of people think, “Wow! That’s amazing!” I even tried some of the techniques with my own dog. I pushed her nose in her pee when she had a potty accident to teach her that she did something wrong, I smacked her nose, yelled “NO!” and made startling sounds when she “misbehaved” (luckily, I never used the more extreme ones). After all, this was what the “experts” recommended. This was how you were supposed to train a dog. How else was she supposed to learn?
Then, in 2010, I began my animal training career, first being introduced to the science of behavior as a volunteer at Mystic Aquarium in the Steller sea lion department. I watched trainers teach bigger, wild animals, much more complex behaviors, all through positive reinforcement. There were no corrections given, “no” wasn’t even in their training vocabulary, and dominating a 1200 lb sea lion? Ha! I’d like to see someone try (not really, though. That’d end very badly for the human).
Me, as a volunteer at Mystic Aquarium, working with L.A. (left) next to Juneau (right), two female Steller sea lions, .
How could these professional trainers work with such large, powerful, undomesticated animals, training intricate behaviors like voluntary blood draws and ultrasounds (without restraint), recalls, stationing (the equivalent of “stay” or “place”) and even calling a sea lion out of their pool, to walk on the public side of a show stadium, in front of a crowd of hundreds of people safely with no barriers, no tethers, and no devices to control them? The animals were free to choose to stay or go, swim off or participate, bite and show aggression or take part in the training session. Yet, time and time again, I watched these animals voluntarily and calmly choose to participate; EVEN when it meant having a needle stuck into their flippers for an uncomfortable blood draw.
I didn’t get it. I was taught that to train an animal, I must be dominant. I must always be alpha, teach animals to submit and show them that I’m in charge. Maybe it was different with dogs. Sure, this whole positive reinforcement thing works on marine mammals, but dogs are different. Aren’t they?
I even got to help with the beluga whales at Mystic, occassionally. Here I am, giving a tongue rub to one. One of their favorite reinforcers!
I started taking the positive reinforcement techniques that I learned at Mystic Aquarium, and applying them with my dog, Missy. Very quickly, I got better attention from her, a better recall, better behavior overall, and our bond grew stronger. I actually enjoyed training her and she seemed eager to train as well. I learned that no species, including humans, are exempt from the laws of behavior. Positive reinforcement works, and when done properly, it works very well (during my time as a volunteer at Mystic Aquarium, I was also introduced to the book, “Don’t Shoot the Dog” by Karen Pryor. A fantastic read if you’re interested in learning more about behavior and training).
That TV celebrity (who will remain unnamed so as not to give him anymore undeserving attention) quickly lost his appeal with me. I realized that what he was spewing out was garbage without an ounce of science to back it up. He was quite literally abusing animals. It was wrong. Very wrong. I’m grateful that somewhere inside of me, I must have subconsciously known this all along, because I was smart enough to never attempt some of the more forceful tactics he displayed. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it (clue #1 that something wasn’t right! Always trust your gut!). Still though, for the rest of my life I will carry the guilt with me that I ever used intimidation or fear to “train” Missy. I’m so sorry, Mips.
My childhood dog, Missy, a Bichon Frise mix
Fast forward to today. It’s 2024 and there are still people who call themselves professionals who follow in his footsteps. People who still choose pain, fear and intimidation tactics over science.
The research is clear. Punishment works, but so does reinforcement. Shouldn’t that right there be enough for us all to choose kind methods over the unkind ones?
I think about what life must be like for dogs. Dogs don’t choose to live with us, we choose them. They’re brought into our home and forced into a life very much suited for humans, much less so for canines. Dogs were bred to hunt, forage, protect, run and retrieve. Yet, we punish them for barking, scavenging, exploring and walking too fast. They get punished for acting like a dog. Imagine being dropped into a foreign land, forced to live with a species whom you can’t fully communicate with and being punished for doing normal, natural human behaviors? (Jean Donaldson wrote a very compelling excerpt on this very topic in her book, “Culture Clash.”).
I think about how I prefer to learn. I think about some of my most influential teachers and experiences over my lifetime. Like all of us, I’ve been taught with both punishment and reinforcement. I’ll never forget back when I was first learning to train animals. I was shadowing a more senior trainer and she asked me to demonstrate a skill. I did, to the best of my ability, and in front of a crowd of people, she rushed over and said, “No, no, no. That’s not how we do it,” completely embarrassing me and making me feel terrible. I also remember my first time doing a sea lion program with guests and my mentor scolding me for making a mistake, right in front of them. These experiences certainly did not motivate me to try harder the next time. It made me want to give up and avoid anything to do with training altogether!
Me and Koa, a California sea lion at Sea Life Park.
On the contrary, I remember a swim coach who was teaching me to swim. Man, did he have his work cut out for him! I was downright awful. But every mistake I made was met with encouragement and feedback on what to change to be better next time. I dreaded swimming before beginning my class because I knew it would be difficult. I came to enjoy the classes and really pushed myself to work hard and improve (and I did improve significantly!) through his supportive, positive reinforcement-based coaching.
I’m sure we all have our own stories to tell. We’ve all experienced reinforcement and punishment and we’re all subject to the laws of behavior and dogs are no different. And like dogs, my learning history has shaped who I am today.
So, here’s what it means to me to be a reward-based dog trainer:
It means no dog in my care will ever experience fear, pain or stress inflicted by me.
That I will put the dog’s welfare above all else, including my own goals, desires, timeline and convenience.
It means I will teach dogs based on cooperation, not compliance and that dogs in my care are safe to make mistakes throughout the learning process without risk of retaliation.
It means I will provide them with choice and control and the ability to opt in or out of any training situation, as much as is safe to do so.
That I will lead with kindness and aloha, and treat them the way I would like to be treated by someone bigger and stronger than me.
I can’t protect animals from all the pain, fear or stress in the world. But I can protect them from pain, fear and stress elicited by me. I owe them that much.
With wags and aloha,
Cori Tufano- CPDT-KA, CSAT, FDM, FFCP
Training my dog, Shiloh, a sit-stay with positive reinforcement