How to Raise a Jewish Dog (6 page)

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The dog will not only blame herself for doing the wrong thing, but also for not even knowing what it is, or for not “remembering”
that it is wrong.

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The dog will therefore feel not only in the wrong, but
guilty.
(Hence the term “guilting the dog.”) She will fret that she’s “not enough.”

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This state of guilt can last anywhere from a few seconds to fifteen seconds. During this time, it is possible that the dog
will learn the lesson.

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If the dog doesn’t learn the lesson, you will have collaborated with her in fixing the problem in any case. And isn’t that
what’s important? Because let’s face it: life is too short to spend all day trying to teach a dog not to eat Kleenex, or whatever.

Note: Don’t expect every lesson to conform to the Five-Stage Cycle. There will be times, for example, when you’ll be too tired
and/or irritated to progress beyond the self-pity at the end of stage 3. There will also be times when you just don’t have
the time or patience to do much more than follow stages 1 and 2 and, when the dog fails to obey, stage 5. This is perfectly
acceptable. God forbid every interaction with the dog shouldn’t be a fully realized teaching and learning experience. Don’t
worry about it.

“Communicating” is a broad term and includes everything from hugging and tickling, to using baby talk, to speaking actual
words and sentences to the dog, which is what we focus on.

In raising a Jewish dog, it is essential to remember that everything you say must have a subtext. This term, taken from literature
and drama, refers to the hidden or implicit meaning of anything that’s said. Subtext is always conveyed
nonverbally.
For example, take two characters in a movie, eating lunch. One has just become angry with the other. The angry character,
instead of saying “I’m mad at you” need only say “Pass the salt” in a specific way to convey his anger. “Pass the salt” is
the text; I’m angry is the subtext, conveyed via facial expression, body language, and, most important, tone of voice.

Rabbi Alan making small talk with dog to deliver subtext. Note how Alan’s silly expression and idiotic manner mask explosive
emotions, enormous pain, and other messages.

Using subtext is important in raising a Jewish dog because that’s how we convey the Four Essential Messages (“You’re great”/“You’re
terrible”/“You need me”/“I’ll die if you die”) and, in this way, bind the dog to us and get him to do what we require (for
his own good). In our training we emphasize conveying subtext using tone of voice. The table on the right shows some basic
examples and includes the purpose (why we are speaking to the dog in the first place), the literal, verbal text (what we say
out loud), the tone to use (how to say the text), and the subtext (what secondary message we are conveying nonverbally).

Basic Examples of Subtext and How to Deliver Them to the Dog

Dog (left), confused by emptiness of small talk, wonders whether Rabbi Alan is having a stroke.

The purpose of the constant use of subtext is vital: The dog walks around in a confused state (which he blames on himself),
wondering, What am I missing? What is the owner implying that I’m not getting? This makes him more susceptible to guilting.

Also, because he senses that your state is dependent on him, the more you express a subtext of despair or hysteria, the more
he will begin to think, My owner is about to have a nervous breakdown. I had better stay close in case I have to alert the
authorities.

Two other general tones of voice are especially useful. One involves making declarative statements in the form of sarcastic
rhetorical questions. For example, the suggestion “Don’t chew on the lamp cord. You’ll get electrocuted” has about it a certain
off-putting formality, not to mention a kind of bossy know-it-all attitude the dog can’t help but resent. In contrast, the
same recommendation can be conveyed by saying “So, you’re looking for a way to give yourself a fatal shock?” But in this case
the tone conveys not only a feeling of respect, but a certain jocular ease among equals.

In a similar way, a tone of world-weary concession can convert a message tinged with unpleasant anger into one the dog is
more likely to want to hear—and thus, to heed. Rather than cry, in a fit of exasperation, “Fine! Tear up the bag of kibble
and eat it all until you explode!” we recommend employing the word-to-the-wise tactfulness of “If you think you can fit that
twenty-pound bag of kibble into your twenty-eight-pound body, don’t let me stop you.” This, too, is gently sarcastic, but
also imparts a sense that you respect the dog’s intelligence—and that you expect her to use it.

The actual words you employ when talking to the dog are extremely important. Certain words can imply a great deal, especially
when used at the beginning of statements. Here are four exceptionally useful words rich in content:
So:
Begin any command or question with “So.” For example, “So sit!” “So who’s a good girl?!” Use of “so” at the beginning of
any sentence suggests that any comment, command, or question is merely the continuation of a single ongoing dialogue that
never ends. This, in turn, means that you are invoking the entire past dialogue (not that it matters or that anyone can remember
it), which enables you to put the dog on the spot with a vague sense of expectation. The dog will feel it’s his turn to account
for himself, which gives you added power over him.

(Note: Do not overuse this word, or the dog will start to assume that “So” is his name. If So
is
his name, pick another name.)

Nu:
When you come home and the dog looks guilty, and you see she’s been chewing and clawing her way through some nice throw pillows
you just bought, the Yiddish term “nu” is a stronger, more demanding call for attention and accountability than “so.” For
example, “Nu, what the hell is this?” “Nu, what did you do?!” “Nu” conveys a more objective-seeming concern or distress than
“so,” and foists on the dog the obligation to “get with it” in ways that the rest of the world acknowledges. “Nu” is also
useful to encourage the dog to “do his business” when you’re outside and he seems to be taking an inordinate amount of time.
For example, “Nu? Any time today.”

What:
An all-purpose introductory word and attention-getter, but mainly used to introduce a note of disagreement, skepticism, or
incredulity. For example, “What, you not only have to eat that filthy-dirty Popsicle off the sidewalk, you have to eat the
stick, too?” or “What, our neighbor Mr. Foster can’t walk his nice standard poodle, Tucker, down the street without you making
a big to-do with the barking?” “What” is an informal, semijocular term and should be used accordingly, to introduce rhetorical
questions you don’t really expect the dog to answer.

Okay?:
Term of courtesy and respect, put at the end of almost every request, statement, or command so as not to damage the dog’s
self-esteem by appearing to be too bossy. Always include the interrogatory tone, as in, “Listen, Deuce, we’re going out to
dinner. We’ll be back in, like, two hours, okay?” Saying “Okay?” even when you’re not really expecting the dog either to consent
(“Sure! Okay!”) or refuse (“No! Not okay!”), shows the dog you don’t take his obedience for granted and that you respect him
as a “person,” albeit of the dog kind.

Dogs are adept at reading nonverbal cues from humans—a phenomenon that is really not as mysterious as it sounds. Everyone
is familiar with how dogs will respond to hand claps and whistles, for instance. Many dogs know that when an owner wordlessly
holds out a leash, that means “it’s time for a walk.” A dog being raised Jewish is perfectly capable of understanding these
cues, of course, but it is helpful for the owner to develop a broader nonverbal vocabulary.

Not that the dog will understand it, because he won’t. That’s the point. By addressing the dog in nonverbal gestures and signifiers,
and having the dog either look blankly back in reply or ignore them altogether, the owner creates opportunities for Situational
Martyrdom (see “Correction and Punishment,” p. 56).

“Good dog! You are the best dog. I love you so much I can’t stand it. ” (Note: To be delivered to dog only. Do not direct
this gesture at a stranger.)

“Stop that now. We’ve talked about this. You know you’re only doing it to provoke me. ”