What My Natural Dog Has Taught Me
by Claire Anderson, CSAP-BC, FDM, CPDT-KA, FFCP
London was 7 weeks old when I met him, his mama, and his siblings. He was a tiny ball of brindle fluff, with the cutest black muzzle. He was a bit apprehensive about my Rottweiler Austen and me but oh-so-curious! He was a bit shy about being approached by either of us, but when we turned away or moved away, I could see him toddling along after us, with tentative interest. It did not take long before he was our constant shadow and not at all nervous about us! When I adopted London, it was not a decision I made lightly. Here’s what I knew about his genetics and history:
His mom was a Siberian Husky with a friendly, gentle temperament.
Both parents were picked up as strays in California, while mama was pregnant with him.
He was born into foster care, living with his mom and siblings in a loving home.
His [presumed] father looked to be a large Pit Bull or Staffordshire Terrier mix with a fairly unknown temperament as he was moved to another rescue organization.
As a person who has spent her life working with dogs, and the last decade working as a professional dog trainer, coach, and consultant, I knew the risks. I knew that even though his mom showed me a very sweet, calm demeanor, she was likely under extreme stress as a stray when he was in the womb and that this could have an effect on his emotional well-being and behavior. I knew that he was genetically at least half Siberian Husky, which can come with its own set of challenges. I knew that I was going into the situation a bit blind, without having knowledge about his dad, the rolling stone. I knew that his immediate apprehension of Austen and me could be a predictor of fearful behavior going forward. But I also knew that we could do it. And that there was “just something about him” that I couldn’t walk away from.
I did an Embark DNA kit and here’s what I found:
London is certainly a mixed breed dog, but he is primarily a Natural Dog, with a combined 60.5% Siberian Husky and Alaskan Malamute.
What is a Natural Dog?
As applied ethologist Kim Brophey puts it: “These first dogs of the world–the basal breeds–are representative of the first evolutionary step away from their ancestral wolves. They are less domesticated and thus maintain many of the behaviors of their ancestors like strong predation and self-preservation, though still far more companionable to men than wild animals.” I aptly named London after Jack London, author of Call of the Wild and White Fang, both stories about wildness and domesticity living side-by-side.
London showed his natural-dog-ness immediately. Having recently raised my Rottweiler through the first year of her life, the differences in their behavior as puppies were very clear to me. When Austen wanted to play, she wanted to play with me. When London wanted to play, it did not usually include me. Austen enjoyed any physical touch I gave her, including grooming. London howled like a banshee if touch lasted too long or if it felt at all like restraint (still does). Austen was trusting; London was suspicious. Austen flew into new experiences with the confidence of a warrior, whereas London was tentative. Training new behaviors with Austen was so fun, with huge engagement on her part. London needed tiny micro-sessions of easy, less structured learning or he would get frustrated and walk away or become a bitey monster. It became clear to me early on that my relationship with London would be vastly different. Yes, I would still be the guardian, steadfast protector, and coach for both of them – but his needs for environment, learning, and companionship would contrast significantly.
I have always been fascinated by natural dogs and many of them have been my absolute favorite clients. I’ve been drawn to the “wildness” that exists in them and their strong sense of self-preservation. Raising and living with one can be an interesting challenge. As a dog trainer and guardian, it requires creativity, thinking on your feet, and a lot of patience.
Natural dogs usually have an intact predatory sequence and a strong predation drive. I witnessed London’s curiosity about small animals early on when I took him to try barn hunt at five months old. Barn hunt is a sport in which dogs hunt for rats (who are safely and happily in large PVC tubes) in a barn setting, with hay bales as obstacles. He flew through the instinct and intro tests with an intensity that floored me. By nine months old he was easily finding three rats in two minutes without getting distracted by the surrounding dogs or people at all. As he got older, our morning walks become his hunting time. He was locked in on sniffing for prey. We moved to rural Wisconsin when he was eleven months old and he immediately took to patrolling the backwoods for rodents. Fascinated, I watched him hunt. It looked exactly like the videos I’ve seen of wild wolves and coyotes hunting. He started regularly catching and killing mice. While I don’t love watching any animal die, watching him use his instinct to hunt, capture, and kill was truly awe-inspiring.
Let me paint you a picture: London runs into the dried-up swamp area in the woods of northern Wisconsin, surrounded by pine, aspen, and birch trees. He quickly runs circles through the area, nose to the ground, pausing for a deeper sniff here and there. He freezes, then slowly surveys the area. He locks in on a pile of brush around an old stump. He stands perfectly still, except for the tip of his tail, which quivers with excitement. Ears erect, he leaps gracefully five feet into the air, coming down, front paws first, hard onto a specific spot. He pounces in the same spot repeatedly, pushing the ground with his front paws. Seconds later, his head dives down and comes up with a mouse. Two quick shakes of his head and the mouse has been killed. He proudly carries it to a spot about ten feet away, lies down, and noses the body.
The feeling I get when watching London hunt is spiritual. My heart flutters with excitement along with his. Watching an animal do exactly what they were meant to do makes me feel as if I am doing exactly what I am meant to do. I think that is what natural dogs give us, as humans, above all else: the ability to remember that we are all natural beings, existing together in the world. As evolutionary biologist, Marc Bekoff Ph. D. says, “Human beings are a part of the animal kingdom, not apart from it.” I think we all would do well by remembering that.
So, looking into the future with my now one-year-old “wild boy” as I call him, I am reminded that the most important things are: balance, patience, and appreciation.
Balance
Balancing their needs and their safety is important for any dog-human relationship. When I use the word “balance”, I am not talking about the training style. I am talking about creating a life for your natural dog that allows them to be the wild beasts that they are while being safe in our very human-centric world. It’s finding a way for them to use their independence to problem solve, run unleashed (in a safe place), or use their hunting skills every day. It’s setting consistent, clear boundaries so that they don’t put themselves in unsafe situations and you can reward them for safe choices. It’s about respecting their boundaries and needs while helping them to feel safe during necessary grooming or care needs. [Check out Cooperative Care!]
Patience
A natural dog is wonderful in so many ways, but they can sometimes be a challenge to live in a house or an apartment, especially in an urban environment. They can be destructive if they aren’t given enough appropriate play and enrichment. They might struggle with confinement and/or a lack of space. Their sense of self-preservation tends to be high, so any perceived threat to their personal safety can be a problem. They may not be interested in long training sessions or repetition. Consent is important for any dog, but especially a natural dog. The list goes on. However, a bit of patience goes a long way. Be patient with them in all things and do your best to set them up for success.
Appreciation
Learn as much as you can about who they are and continue learning as they age. Learn about their history, genetically, functionally, and environmentally. Let that inform (to a degree) how you interact with them. Instead of being angry when they tear up a couch pillow, give them throw-away boxes or cheap stuffies and smile as you watch them rip and tear to their hearts’ content. Lately, London and I have been learning skijoring, in which he pulls me on cross-country skis. It is a wonderful way for him to do what he loves most— RUN! It is how we bond the best: out in nature, moving our bodies, and exploring the world together. Find ways to allow them to be themselves and watch - it will give you butterflies, I promise.
My natural dog, my wild boy, London has taught me so many things. Above all, he has taught me to take a step back and appreciate the wildness that exists so strongly within him. Living with a natural dog can truly be a spiritual and fascinating experience if you make room for them to be who they are. He tries my patience on a daily basis, yes. But it is important to remember that the modern world he lives in can be very frustrating, scary, and problematic for him. Our job as guardians of natural dogs must be to set up safe boundaries, but also to find ways for them to be themselves every day and to respect their need for independence and space.
If you would like help understanding or living with your natural dog, I can help!