
why does my dog jump on me from behind
It’s 7 a.m. in your Portland apartment, and you’re reaching for your coffee mug when suddenly, a warm body crashes into the back of your legs—your 10-month-old lab mix
It’s a crisp Saturday morning in the park, and your 9-month-old border collie, Lila, is sprinting toward a group of kids playing frisbee. You call her name, voice rising—“Lila, come here!”—but she spins in a circle, tail high, before darting toward a squirrel. Your heart races as you jog after her, wondering why the “come” command that works at home fails here. If you’re a new dog owner, this scenario is all too familiar. When your dog won’t come, it’s not defiance—it’s usually confusion, distraction, or a broken association between the command and good things. Fixing it means blending patience, science, and the habits that make you a trusted leader in your pet community.
Dogs don’t ignore commands out of spite—their brains prioritize what feels most rewarding in the moment. A squirrel, a new smell, or even another dog triggers their natural “prey drive” or curiosity, which overrides your call if “come” hasn’t been linked to something better. A certified trainer in Seattle explained: “Dogs learn through associations. If ‘come’ sometimes means treats but other times means the walk ending or a bath, they’ll hesitate.” Their short attention spans also play a role—yelling or chasing them amplifies stress, making them run faster to escape, not toward you. She shared a case: a golden retriever whose owner chased him when he ran off, turning “come” into a game of “catch me if you can.” “We reversed it by sitting down, pulling out cheese, and ignoring him—he came over immediately, confused why he wasn’t being chased,” she said. Dogs want connection, so making “come” calm and rewarding changes everything.
Turning “come” into a command your dog loves starts with rebuilding trust. First, stop using “come” when you know she’ll ignore it—save it for moments you can guarantee a reward. Start indoors, where distractions are low: kneel, open your arms, and say “Lila, come!” in a warm, excited tone. When she reaches you, give her two treats (a jackpot!) and a belly rub—make it the best part of her day. Gradually move to the yard, then quiet streets, adding tiny distractions (like shaking a toy) as she improves. If she ignores you in the park, don’t chase—take a few steps back, pull out a high-value treat (like a piece of hot dog), and say her name softly. When she glances over, light up and pat your lap—curiosity will bring her closer, and the treat will seal the deal. Never scold her when she finally comes; that teaches her “coming back means trouble,” not relief.
Fixing recall ties into being a responsible pet owner in your community. First, stay legally prepared: rabies vaccines are mandatory in all U.S. states, and keeping records handy helps if park rangers ask. When practicing in shared spaces, always carry poop bags—cities like Denver fine up to $100 for leaving waste, and it shows respect for others’ enjoyment. In apartments, practice “come” during quiet hours to avoid disturbing neighbors, pairing it with treats so she associates the command with calm, happy moments. Remember, patience beats frustration: a vet in Chicago notes that 80% of recall issues resolve with consistent positive reinforcement, not punishment. Lila isn’t being “bad”—she’s just being a dog, and it’s your job to make “coming” worth her while.
Watching Lila now, she pauses mid-run when you call, trotting back with a wagging tail, knowing a treat and praise await. The goal isn’t perfection every time, but building a bond where she chooses to come—because being with you is the best reward of all.
It’s 7 a.m. in your Portland apartment, and you’re reaching for your coffee mug when suddenly, a warm body crashes into the back of your legs—your 10-month-old lab mix
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