You’re strolling through a sunny park in Philadelphia, your playful Lab puppy trotting beside you, when suddenly she darts toward a half-eaten hot dog on the ground. Your heart races—what if it’s covered in onions, or moldy? You yank her leash, shout “no!” but she only pulls harder, nose twitching with excitement. It’s a moment new dog owners in Phoenix backyards, Detroit sidewalks, and San Francisco parks know all too well: teaching “leave it” isn’t just about manners—it’s about keeping your pup safe.
Dogs are born scavengers, with noses 10,000 times more sensitive than ours. To them, a crumb on the sidewalk is a treasure, a discarded candy wrapper a mystery to solve. That curiosity is part of their charm, but it can lead to trouble—think chocolate, sharp bones, or even rat poison. “Leave it” isn’t about suppressing their instincts; it’s about giving them a clear signal to trust you when something’s dangerous. Behaviorists call this “impulse control”—training their brain to pause, even when their nose screams “grab it!” My neighbor’s terrier, Milo, once ate a raisin (toxic to dogs) before she learned “leave it”; now, he freezes when she says the words, waiting for her okay.
Start simple, with high-value treats—think cheese cubes or freeze-dried chicken, yummier than whatever’s on the ground. Hold a treat in your closed fist, let your dog sniff and paw at it, and wait. The second they pull back, even for a split second, say “yes!” and give them a different treat from your other hand. This teaches them: “Not touching that = better stuff comes.” Repeat until they back off at the first “leave it.” Next, put a treat on the floor, cover it with your foot, and say the command. When they look up at you instead of lunging, reward big. A friend in Austin did this with her Beagle, Lucy, who’d steal socks nonstop; now, she ignores dropped laundry on cue.
As they master it, practice in trickier spots: your apartment (where they might eye your shoes), the sidewalk (past that pizza crust), or the dog park (around other pups’ toys). Never punish them for slipping up—yelling or tapping their nose confuses them, making training slower (and goes against U.S. norms of positive reinforcement). Instead, calmly reset and try again with easier steps.
Legally, keep those rabies vaccines current—required in every state, and critical if they do sneak something risky. When out, always clean up after them; in Seattle, skipping poop duty can cost $250, and “leave it” helps them avoid eating others’ waste too. In apartments, training “leave it” stops them from grabbing neighbors’ dropped keys or kids’ snacks, keeping harmony.
With patience, “leave it” becomes second nature. Soon, you’ll walk past that hot dog in the park, say the words, and watch your pup glance up at you—trusting you to keep them safe. That’s the magic of training: turning chaos into connection.
Yorkshire Terriers, with their tiny frames and big personalities, charm their way into hearts instantly. But when it comes to toilet training, many new owners wonder: are these pint - sized pups a breeze or a challenge?
Picture this: You’re sitting on your living room couch in a cozy LA apartment, watching your new puppy chew on your favorite slipper. You might be thinking,
You’re hiking the trails near Boulder with your rescue Shepherd when a deer darts across the path. "Max, come!" you shout—but he’s already vanished into the pines
Picture this: you're at the local park, leash dangling uselessly in your hand, as your new Labrador, Fido, bolts toward a squirrel. You shout "COME!"
If you've welcomed a Labrador into your home, you know these affectionate bundles of energy are always ready for adventure. But the question of "how often should I walk my Labrador?" isn't one-size-fits-all.
Imagine this: You unclip the leash at your local dog park in San Diego, and your golden retriever immediately bolts after a squirrel, ignoring your desperate calls.
