Dog walking in Newcastle

When I’m dog walking in Newcastle, I enjoy the company of so many dogs, each with their own take on what being a dog really means. Dog walks are varied and can be brisk, slow, nose-to-the-ground, calm, perpetual motion, focused, or distracted. But what happens when a dog just says, “No!”

Dog walking in Newcastle – meet Willow

Today, I did my first walk with Willow, who is a beautiful black and gold Hovawort. We’d met on a couple of occasions and got along well. Indeed she was positively affectionate at the initial booking visit. I’d done a ‘test drive’ with her human waiting down the street only yesterday, just to be sure I could get this lovely, gentle soul out of the house – she was, after all, a large guarding breed with a formidable bark! All preparations had gone well, so I arrived devoid of anxiety and looking forward to getting to know her loveliness.

As before, Willow greeted me as an intruder with furious barking and told me she was big, this was her house, and would I mind going away now, please? Once I was in and had opened the inner door, the barking gave way to a reluctant admission of recognition and acceptance—I could come in, and she wouldn’t eat me, but no, she would rather not leave the security of her home right now, thanks!

I talked to her quietly, my gaze soft and low. Even a slight sideward approach was met with avoidance, so I sat down in her living room in the only chair she had ever seen me occupy. Hoping she would remember the ease and acceptance of our first meeting, I got out some irresistible treats and threw one across the room to land at her feet. She ate it and watched me for my next move.

“Friend and comrade, not a servant”

This was good human behaviour, but could she train me to repeat it? I threw the next treat a few feet short of where she was standing, and she moved towards me. After a third repetition, she was close enough to touch and had her face towards me. I continued talking to her and asked for her “face”—her

Dog walking in Newcastle - when the dog says, "No!"
A young Hovawart sunbathing

known request to accept her head collar. This she did, and I thought, “That’s it—we’re off.”

The Kennel Club breed book describes the Hovawart as a dog who is not submissive. A dog who “obeys willingly, without giving up his pride or becoming a slave to humans. He is a friend and comrade, not a servant.” It’s an accurate description of the behaviour I saw Willow display. She had dignity about her, and I was aware that I had best learn to reason with her now because I would never be able to coerce her into doing anything (even if I wanted to – which I don’t).

But the truth is, she had me right there. I adore dogs who show independence of thought and don’t just follow without question. I respected her right to have some kind of control over her life. It’s my job to prove to her that what I want to give her is an opportunity to have fun, make choices, and enjoy good things. But right now, she doesn’t know me or trust my goodness, and why should she?

Offering control

We walked without event to the end of the street, but the moment we turned a corner away from her home, she stopped and refused to move on. I began with stroking the lead (a T-Touch technique for moving a ‘rooted’ dog on without dragging them) with scant success. So, we started running forward with an excitement nobody could resist, and yes, she was running alongside me! The victory was short-lived. We were moving uphill, and I couldn’t keep it up forever! Then I added the odd treat and had “Good girl.” on repeat when she was moving, and eventually, we made it to the top of the path and to a T-junction.

I had no idea where either path would lead us; we were on her turf, so I simply let her decide. She took me left, a short way along the path, down through a broken section of fence, over some grassland (where she felt safe enough to wee), and back to her house. All this ground was covered at a brisk walking pace. She knew what she wanted, indeed!

Taking control back

We still had walking time left, and I wanted her to know that we could both make good choices, so I turned left past the front of her house and back along the original route. To my surprise, she readily came with me. After completing the same circuit (in half the time) with just a couple of stalls where she could easily be moved on with encouragement, I let her lead me back home. We went inside, removed muddy boots, wiped surprisingly clean paws on her towel and shared some quiet time together. Willow enjoying a treat and a soft touch, with me writing up our little adventure for her human.

I was late leaving her, but the time was immaterial. She revealed so much of herself, and I found her entirely capable and trustworthy. I hope that with time she will know that I am the same.

Dog walking in Newcastle – when a dog says “no!”