Perhaps it’s quite appropriate that I’m having a hard time writing this review because one of my dogs, Milo, is on the couch nudging me to pet him and not taking “no” for an answer, thus making it impossible to type on my computer. I believe he’s exhibiting what the author of “Think Like a Dog: How Positive Psychology Can Help your Dog Thrive” would consider the positive trait “persistence.”
Milo was confiscated from a cruelty situation when he was ten years old, and he witnessed someone in his family kill one of his grandpups in a horrible manner. All the dogs were confiscated. After over six months in animal control, in a cage, while the court case wound through the system, he waited. We were finally able to foster him, and within two days my husband, for the first time in 42 years of marriage, told me that we were keeping him. “He’s my dog,” he told me.
And Milo truly is a wonderful dog, exhibiting many of the positive traits that Golbeck describes and explains in this fascinating book about dog behavior. Golbeck’s premise is that just as Positive Psychology focuses on positive emotions such as joy, contentment and fulfillment to enhance our well-being, the same might hold true for our canine best friends.
In this well-researched volume, Golbeck draws from many studies about dog behavior as well as anecdotes from her own herd of golden retrievers, all rescue, and many with physical or emotional issues. Because she has a very popular Instagram page, The Golden Ratio, where she recounts the exploits of her dogs, she was able to reach out to what she calls the Golden Ratio community to ask them about what they have seen regarding certain specific emotions in their own dogs. Many of their responses are listed along with her own often touching, often amusing stories.
Perhaps this book is an inevitable result of the much-needed emphasis on positive training. In recent times, too many trainers believe slapping an ecollar (the euphemism for an electric shock collar) and shocking the dog when the dog does something we don’t like, is training a dog. The poor dog doesn’t know why they are being shocked, because too often they were not shown what the expectation was. The electric shocks increase as the confused dog doesn’t know what to do. The shocks raise their cortisol levels, so they get more aroused and anxious. The result is the opposite of what Golbeck is advocating in this important book about the psychology of dogs.
Those of us who have and love dogs know much of what Golbeck explains, and we appreciate that she has gathered the science behind it. We know that our dogs are kind. We know that they are curious, and that they can be persistent (cue Milo and his demand for attention). They can focus. My other senior dog, Lexi, who was dumped in the Everglades after having a litter of puppies when she was just a pup herself, loves cats. When she first arrived at my house she desperately wanted to make friends with one of our cats. The cat wanted no part of it. But Lexi, exhibiting what Golbeck might describe as focus and persistence, didn’t give up. After meeting the cat nose to nose elicited growls from the cat, Lexi turned sideways. It’s exactly what we know makes dogs feel less threatened. She apparently thought it would help Natty feel less threatened. It didn’t. She then lay down parallel to Natty, hoping that her submissive stance might help him realize she just wanted to be friends. It didn’t help. But Lexi demonstrated that even a dog who had minimal socialization, and who had been abandoned, had many positive psychology traits.
While Golbeck lives in paradise (in the Florida Keys), she traveled all over to gather information so that we might learn more about our canine best friends. One of my favorite sections is when she visited the Navajo reservation, the Underdog Animal Rescue & Rehab pop-up veterinary clinic, to watch as they spent a weekend spaying and neutering dogs, providing vaccinations and medical care to the many dogs in the Navajo Nation. It’s heartbreaking to read the statistics she quotes, that “From pets to herders, guard dogs, and free roamers, the reservation is home to an estimated 250,000 of them (although some stats claim double that number) and the Nation has a chronic shortage of vets.”
When she wrote the book, there were only four veterinarians for the 27,000-square-mile area. This reminded me of a dog I have never forgotten, a rottweiler we met when traveling through the Navajo Nation going from Mesa Verde National Park to the Grand Canyon, 30 years ago. This sweet dog jumped into our car and wanted to leave with us. At that time, we were on our way to a family reunion, and I had my husband and three kids with us. I didn’t know what to do. (Now I would handle it differently.) I left her, but I never forgot her. She was just one of many stray dogs we saw there, and it broke my heart. But it was extremely heartening to read about the great strides that have been made in that there are now attempts to cut back on the stray population by performing spay and neuter surgeries on the dogs.
Throughout Golbeck’s writing, we sense her deep love of and commitment to not only her own dogs, but all dogs. And along the way, she dispels false notions, like the misguided idea that all packs need an alpha dog. No more of that silly training idea that we need to show dogs we are alpha. She writes that humans “are not born with a limited capacity for things like focus, resilience, kindness, and humor,” but that those traits can be developed with practice and patience. She wonders, and the focus of the book is, “if humans can hone their skills, maybe our pups can, too?”
There’s so much to appreciate in these pages. I loved reading that our dogs tend to mirror us; when we are relaxed and chill, we create an environment that gives our dogs encouragement to feel the same. Her dog Ella ate her inhaler, but even exuberant Ella can be trained with carefully balancing loving encouragement and careful restraint. She celebrates that although her group of goldens are as different as can be in some ways, they all have the potential to grow.
Another favorite part was reading about a dog rescue program in Colombia where students and teachers in a school started rescuing dogs — in the school! This school in northeastern Bogotá has rescued over 580 dogs. It’s not surprising to me (and probably to other educators) that she found “regular interaction with the dogs helps children develop emotional intelligence and resilience.” I was lucky enough to be able to bring multiple dogs with me to school over my years teaching. One was a facility dog, well trained to be a service dog, and the others were all therapy dogs whom we had rescued. I know that just seeing the dog passing in the halls brought a smile to the faces of students, but surprisingly (or maybe not), the teachers were just as positive about having a dog at school.
Golbeck’s desire is that within these pages, we realize that instead of thinking about how our dogs are deficient, and what we need to correct, we should consider what our dogs need to flourish. How can we help them grow into their best selves? (She uses lots of mini meatballs.) I think about my daughter’s boyfriend, who has come to know her rescue dog Lily. He said to her recently, “I had no idea you could love a dog so much.” He had never had a dog before. Reading this informative, beautifully written book reminds me of all the dogs I’ve loved, all their unique talents and abilities, and, of course, because no dog is perfect, all their foibles. Thank you for that, Dr. Golbeck! Everyone with a dog and everyone thinking of adopting a dog (because #adoptdon’tshop) should read this enjoyable and extraordinarily informative book.
This review was first posted on Bookreporter.com.