Imagine six-year-old (and recently tonsil-less!) Berkeley learning math skills. What is the correct response when she proudly offers that 2 + 2 = 5?
Shame her? Scold her? Scare her?
No — you appreciate the effort, admire her excellent number-writing skills, and show her how ❤️❤️ +❤️❤️ = ❤️❤️❤️❤️.
If she understands, she will get it right.
Dogs are not different. If they understand, they get it right.
But, but, but — they do right at home, people say as they “correct” the dog in ways the dog prefers to avoid.
Yes — and you give a perfect speech at home when nobody is listening.
Performing correctly with pressure has to be trained and practiced. Performing correctly when the human is a hot mess of stress has to be trained and practiced. Performing correctly in new environments has to be trained and practiced.
And so on — doing it right in the living room with a relaxed human waving a cookie in their face means the dog is really good — at doing it right in the living room with a relaxed human waving a cookie in their face.
One of many reasons I do not train in ways that a dog finds unpleasant is because I am imperfect, and that means if something is amiss — it was likely my fault. I did not train for the situation or maybe I assumed mastery before it exists or any number of reasons. I don’t blame the dog — that seems unfair, given all my limitations.