
Can you stop a dog from jumping
Watching my neighbor’s golden retriever, Max, launch himself at every guest who walked through their door—paws on shoulders, tail wagging like a metronome
I was at a dog park in Denver last month watching a border collie named Lila dart after a squirrel, her owner calling “Come!” until he was hoarse—she didn’t even glance back. “She’s perfect on leash, but off-leash? It’s like I don’t exist,” he sighed. Teaching your dog to come back when off the lead isn’t just about obedience—it’s about safety, trust, and letting them enjoy freedom without the risk of running into traffic or getting lost. With the right approach, even the most distractible pup can learn to prioritize your call over squirrels, other dogs, or that intriguing smell in the grass.
Dogs are wired to explore, so ignoring your call isn’t defiance—it’s their brain saying, “This squirrel is more interesting than your voice.” The key is to make “coming back” more rewarding than whatever’s caught their attention. A trainer in Austin calls it “value reversal”: if your dog learns that “running to you = the best treat ever,” they’ll choose you over distractions every time. This works because their brains are driven by positive reinforcement—rewards (treats, praise, play) build habits faster than scolding, which only makes them fear coming back. My neighbor’s golden retriever, Max, used to ignore calls until she started using freeze-dried liver treats—now he bolts back at the first “Come!” because he knows the reward is worth it.
Start training in a quiet, fenced area—your backyard or a empty parking lot works. Use a consistent cue, like “Here!” or “Come!” in a cheerful tone (yelling sounds stressful, so they’ll avoid it). Stand 5 feet away, say your cue, and when they take a step toward you, praise them wildly and offer a high-value treat (think hot dog bits or cheese). Gradually increase distance to 10 feet, then 20, adding mild distractions (like tossing a toy nearby). Once they nail it at home, move to a park with a long line (15-20 feet) to keep them safe while they practice—if they ignore you, gently guide them back with the line, then reward when they reach you (never scold, or they’ll associate coming back with negativity). A trainer in Chicago recommends 5-minute sessions daily—short and fun beats long, frustrating ones.
In apartments, practice in hallways or your living room, using dropped keys or a favorite toy as distractions. When visiting dog parks, wait until your dog reliably comes back before letting them off-leash—this keeps them from bothering other pets or running into streets. Always carry poop bags (Denver fines $125+ for forgetting) and keep their rabies vaccine current; most parks require proof of vaccines, and a dog who listens is safer around others. Never chase a running dog—they’ll think it’s a game. Instead, run the opposite way, clapping or calling cheerfully—curiosity will make them follow.
By summer, Lila’s owner was grinning as she trotted back to him, tail wagging, even with squirrels darting nearby. That’s the magic of off-leash recall: it turns worry into joy, letting your dog explore while knowing they’ll always choose to come back to you.
Watching my neighbor’s golden retriever, Max, launch himself at every guest who walked through their door—paws on shoulders, tail wagging like a metronome
I sat with Maria in her Austin apartment last spring as her rescue German Shepherd, Max, paced nervously near his bed, hackles raised.
How long does it take to potty train a 4 month old puppy? Most vets and trainers agree you’re looking at roughly 4 to 6 weeks of consistent work, but don’t stress if your little one takes a bit longer.
I was helping my friend Lily with her rescue pit bull, Rocky, last winter when he lunged suddenly, nipping her hand hard enough to leave a bruise.
I sat across from Jamie in a Seattle coffee shop last month as she scrolled through her phone—3 missed texts from her apartment manager, all about her border collie
I jolted awake at 2 AM in my Chicago apartment, the sound of my neighbor’s terrier, Milo, barking nonstop through the walls. “Not again,” I groaned