Testing a dog's "commitment to relaxation"

Thoughts about a specific situation I saw in a sit on the dog exercise, culminating in reflections on interacting with our pets as social creatures

I once saw a video of a shepherd lying down as their handler sat on a bench. They were practicing “sit on the dog” (a training technique where you wait for your companion to settle without guidance). Suddenly the person stood up. The dog did too, and the handler verbally reprimanded him—she said she was “testing [the dog]’s commitment to relaxation”.

I was confused. I still am.

Proofing a formal down stay is one thing. If I tell Scout “down” and our command criteria—that I’ve taken time to clearly teach her—includes “enter and remain in position until told otherwise”? Then yes, me standing up quickly is a worthy distraction/temptation for her to resist. (We’ve worked hard on just that, actually: If my dog is on a place command at a patio or in a down under a park bench and I need to advocate for her space, it’s easier for everyone if she can stay still as I leap into action. Grabby toddlers and off-leash dogs come out of nowhere!)

But if Scout is at liberty—she’s lying down of her own volition, not under command, with no instructions from me to do a specific thing—and I stand up quickly? Standing with me is the most natural reaction she could have.

And it’s what I want her to do as my fellow social creature.

This situation is not about a dog’s “commitment to relaxation”. (I’m skeptical of the focus the word commitment implies and whether it’s compatible with true relaxation at all, but that’s a whole other semantics conversation.) No, it’s about dogs navigating the world with us. Paying attention to our movements. And responding in kind.

Imagine you’re on a walk with your best friend. She whips her head around to look at something that caught her peripheral vision. What do you do? Probably turn to look too. Now she stops walking. What do you do? Probably also stop. We mirror each other constantly. Yale researchers say “following another’s gaze is a hallmark of human learning and socialization”.

Our dogs do it, too.

Domestic dogs understand when we are looking at something. (Think about how they drop toys within our view when they want to play fetch.) They pay attention to human pointing gestures from a young age. Our pets constantly attempt to interpret our body language—they start out attuned to us, a relic of our ancient interspecies bond, and grow more attuned as we learn each other as individuals over time.

I never want to “proof” that out of Scout. Seeing domestic dogs as social creatures (uniquely suited to live with people) has been the core transformation in my training and ownership journey. It isn’t folk nonsense to discuss the measurable, repeatable ways my dog responds to my own subtle cues. It isn’t dangerous anthropomorphism to talk about our relationship.

So if Scout and I are relaxing somewhere together and I suddenly stand up? She’s more than welcome to rise with me. If needed I’ll give her further direction and put her under an official command. Otherwise I’ll lean into the natural back-and-forth we’ve worked so hard to build after years of fixating too much on robotic, transactional interactions.