How do you teach a stubborn dog to recall

Imagine this: You’re at a sunny park in Dallas, letting your 2-year-old basset hound, Duke, explore off-leash for the first time. A squirrel darts past, and Duke’s nose hits the ground, tail wagging—you call “Duke, come!” but he doesn’t glance up. You try again, louder, and he trots away, following the scent. By the time you catch him, you’re both sweaty, and you’re wondering: How do you teach a stubborn dog to recall? This dance isn’t about defiance—it’s about helping Duke learn that you are the most interesting thing in the room.

First, let’s unpack “stubbornness.” Dogs aren’t being difficult on purpose. Duke’s reluctance to come likely boils down to two things: either he’s never learned that “come” means good stuff, or past experiences taught him it means the fun stops (like being dragged away from a play session with a scold). Hounds like Duke, bred to follow scents over long distances, have brains wired to prioritize “track that!” over human voices. Rescues from shelters in rural Tennessee, who might have been punished for approaching too slowly, often hesitate—trust takes time to rebuild. It’s not stubbornness; it’s survival math: “Is coming to them worth missing this squirrel?”

Here’s how to tip the scales in your favor. Start small, in your Atlanta apartment, where distractions are low. Hold a piece of Duke’s favorite treat—think stinky cheese or freeze-dried liver (high-value rewards beat kibble). Crouch down, smile, and say “Duke, come!” in a cheerful tone (yelling sounds like stress, not an invitation). When he shuffles over (even slowly), flood him with praise and the treat. Do this 15 times a day, mixing up when you call—sometimes when he’s napping, sometimes when he’s chewing a toy. After 3 days, move to your building’s courtyard: same routine, but now with a breeze carrying new scents. By week 2, try the quiet side of the park, keeping a long leash handy (6 feet, not retractable—you need control without yanking). If he ignores you, don’t chase—back up a few steps, clap, and make yourself more interesting than the grass. The second he turns toward you, cheer like he just won a trophy.

This ties into bigger rules of dog parenting in the U.S. Teaching recall isn’t just about convenience—it’s part of keeping your dog (and others) safe, which aligns with laws requiring you to control your pet in public. All 50 states mandate rabies vaccines, and many, like California, include “reasonable supervision” in animal welfare codes—recall is key to that. In apartment complexes in Seattle, a reliable recall means Duke won’t dart into a neighbor’s unit or bark at delivery drivers. When walking in D.C.’s busy parks, calling him back keeps him from snatching another dog’s toy (bad etiquette) or eating dropped gum (dangerous). And never, ever scold him for finally coming—punishment teaches him “coming = trouble,” which reverses all your work. Positive reinforcement, as the APDT recommends, builds trust, turning “stubborn” into “eager.”

With time, Duke will start choosing you over squirrels. It might take 6–8 weeks for hounds, 4–6 for more people-pleasing breeds like goldens, but every step—even a slow shuffle toward your voice—is progress. Soon, “come” will sound like a promise, not a command, and your walks will feel like teamwork, not a tug-of-war.