Winston was only a year old when his people first noticed the shift. He had always been a bright, energetic German Shepherd puppy eager to learn and devoted to his guardians. But as he grew, something new began to surface. Whenever he saw another dog, his behaviour escalated into frantic barking and lunging, and he became unable to settle. His guardians, understandably worried, turned to the internet for answers.
Like many well-meaning pet parents, they landed on YouTube trainers who promised fast fixes. They watched videos of chain pops—quick, forceful jerks on a metal collar meant to startle the dog and alpha rolls, where a dog is forcibly pinned onto their back to assert dominance.
These techniques were framed as the only way to “put the dog in its place.” Desperate to help Winston, they tried these methods.
That’s when everything went sideways.
Winston, a dog who had never bitten before, suddenly began biting both his guardians. The more they corrected him, the more fearful and unpredictable he became.
His guardians were shocked and heartbroken. They weren’t trying to hurt him, they were trying to stop the reactivity. But instead of helping, the punishment-based techniques intensified the very behaviour they were hoping to eliminate.
That’s when they called me.
When I arrived to assess Winston, it was clear he wasn’t a dangerous dog. He was a frightened one. And the corrections he’d been receiving weren’t teaching him to feel safe, they were teaching him that seeing other dogs predict pain, conflict, and uncertainty. His reactivity wasn’t going away. It was escalating.
So, we started over.
We traded the chain for treats, pressure for patience, and intimidation for understanding. Together, we introduced positive reinforcement methods designed to help Winston feel safe, supported, and understood. Instead of punishing the reaction, we focused on changing the emotion driving the reaction.
That meant keeping Winston below his threshold so he could still think, slowly and carefully teaching him that the appearance of another dog wasn’t a threat.
Was it fast? No. Real behaviour change never is.
Over the next several months, something beautiful began to happen. His guardians reported softer eyes, looser body language, and a dog who was no longer bracing for conflict. Winston started looking to his guardians for guidance instead of reacting out of fear. He began to trust again. Trust them, trust the process, and trust that the world wasn’t out to hurt him.
This is the part many people don’t see when they compare quick-fix punishment videos to positive reinforcement training. Punishment can silence behaviour in the moment, but it doesn’t erase the underlying emotion. It simply buries it. And buried fear doesn’t disappear—it waits. It grows. And eventually, like in Winston, it erupts.
Positive training methods work differently. They don’t suppress the dog’s feelings; they reshape them. They teach the dog that the thing they fear isn’t actually dangerous. That shift takes time, repetition, and a commitment to empathy. But the results are real, lasting, and far safer for both the dog and the guardians who love them.
Winston didn’t need to be dominated. He needed to be supported. And once he got that support, he finally had room to change.
In the end, that’s the power of positive reinforcement—not just better behaviour, but a deeper bond in which your dog feels safe with you. If you’re finding the journey tough, get help from a positive-reinforcement trainer who understands your dog’s emotions and walks beside you every step of the way.