What Street Dogs Have That Your Dog Doesn’t

Street dogs know where they live, and they have real friends. Our pet dogs don’t, and it’s making them anxious. Here’s what we can do to help.

Street dogs make up a whopping 80% of the world’s canine population, and we Americans tend to feel sorry for them. But are they really the ones we should be worrying about? In fact, the more you learn about dogs and their natural needs, the more complicated the welfare picture becomes. There’s one thing I know for sure, though: Street dogs know where they live. Our beloved, modern-day, captive pet dogs do not — and it’s a key reason so many these days are anxious.

A year ago, I went to India for two weeks specifically to observe free-living dogs. With a group of fellow Family Dog Mediators, I travelled halfway around the world so that I could watch how dogs live when humans aren’t controlling them.

Owned by no one, but loosely looked after by the community, these well-fed streeties had an astonishing ability to navigate their world with ease. From Mumbai to Goa to Agra, they were utterly unbothered by mind-blowing traffic, crowds of people, honking horns, and cows meandering on the sidewalk. They were, from our perspective, surrounded by chaos, and we watched as they . . . napped. Or wagged. Or moved along casually.

What they did not do is freak out.

After India, I came back to suburban Virginia, to a year’s worth of client sessions with dogs who are thrown off by the slightest deviation in their environment. They lose it at the sight of another dog, the flapping of a flag, the neighbor moving his trash container, the kid on a bike, a guest in the house. It’s had me thinking about why our well-fed, well-cherished Western dogs seem increasingly fragile, while the street dogs around the world can move so calmly through their seemingly chaotic days.

Street Dogs Experience Perfect Socialization

As a puppy specialist, I am always talking to people about how to socialize their pups well, so that they grow up feeling comfortable in their world. As I ponder the “poor” homeless Indian dogs, I realize that they are probably the only dogs I’ve ever seen who enjoy perfect socialization for the lives they’re going to lead.

Instead of spending their first months in a safe, gentle cocoon, the streetie puppies are experiencing their full environment from the moment they are born. Our Western eyes find it sad to see a mama dog with her litter in the corner of a chaotic parking lot in Delhi, surrounded by trash. But is it?

As soon as those puppies begin to explore, they have total freedom to move toward something that interests them, and scamper away from something that scares them. Thanks to their busy setting, that happens perhaps hundreds of times each day. Even better, those puppies get to do that, and process it, with other trusted dogs. Each of those encounters is a data point. Each data point helps build a more accurate sense of safety vs. threat.

BOOM! That’s the very essence of nuanced, effective socialization. Here in the leashed, crated, fenced U.S., where most dogs are the only dog in their home, that is not something that happens naturally. Even with a tuned-in owner making a big effort, it’s impossible for us to recreate the agency and fellow-canine support the streetie dogs have.

Our Dogs Don’t Feel Safe Because They Don’t Know Enough

As I reflect a year later, my biggest takeaway from the India trip is that the street dogs have the glorious benefit of actually knowing where they live. Our dogs, in contrast, are effectively in a deprivation chamber.

(I know. We all hate that thought. But stick with me here for the sake of that dog you love so much.)

Our dogs are trapped. They can’t move fully toward or away from things. From behind their fence, they hear dogs barking somewhere but never get to find out who that was. They can’t follow a fox scent more than six feet to the end of the leash. On the other end of the spectrum, when they are taken out of their bubble on that short leash, they’re often forced to be close to things that terrify them (the man looming over to pat their head, the toddler stumbling over to hug them). Through it all, if they’re an only dog, they have nobody to “talk” to about it.

The result of this deprivation-and-isolation chamber for our dogs? They have incredibly limited knowledge of their own world. Combine that with their natural survival instincts and you can see why they feel vaguely anxious all the time. They are safe, but they do not have what ethologists tell us is that most prized of all things in the animal kingdom: felt safety.

How Can We Help Them in Today’s World?

We can argue until the cows come home about whether a streetie is leading a lesser life because he doesn’t have his own person, solid health care and a cozy indoor bed. But nobody’s going to dispute the fact that it is better to live in calm confidence than edge-of-your-seat anxiety.

Of course, I’m not advocating for a return to the days when all dogs were free to roam. That’s not going to fly anymore. (Still, as Kim Brophey often points out, it’s worth a ponder that the profession of “dog trainer” did not become a thing until the 1970’s, when we began truly cooping up our dogs inside, in crates, on leashes – keeping them from doing all the adventuring, sniffing, digging, mating and just hanging out together that the street dogs get to do. Our 1970’s dogs did not need anti-anxiety meds.)

Anyway, we can no longer give our pet dogs the freedom to explore on their own. But what we can do is recognize this as a loss, and put on our thinking caps about how to recreate the benefits that came from it.

Answer #1: Sniff the Neighborhood

First, and easiest: Let your dog sniff, with abandon, on your everyday walks.

This is no small thing. When I say to allow the sniffing, I mean to in fact change the way you view your walk. The sniffing is the whole ballgame, and somehow we primates have gotten that so very wrong as we pat ourselves on the back for “walking the dog” so devotedly. Too often, we are actually rushing the dog past what would be the most glorious aspect of that walk. It’s as if we’ve brought an art student into the Louvre and then as soon as the Mona Lisa is in sight we grab them by the hand and pull them away because we want to hit the gift shop.

Let. Them. Sniff. The more your dog gets to breathe in the details of her immediate world, the more she learns. The more she learns, the less she has to worry about because she has her answers.

To ramp it up a notch, move from a 6-foot leash to a 10-foot long line, and allow for some exploring in the nooks and crannies. Ditch the straight-ahead primate walk and learn to enjoy the canine zig-zag. Take different routes whenever you can. Explore that empty lot. In short: think about what a free-roaming street dog would do, and see if you can help your dog get a little bit of that experience.

Answer #2: Build a Neighbor Village for Your Dog

Next: Make it a goal to find three neighbors with dogs to pull into a “village.” I know: that freaks you out. You don’t know your neighbors, and frankly you’re not sure you want to. I beg you, for the sake of your dog, to get over yourself. It’s incredibly important for your dog to have a consistent, trusted canine social circle. Random play at the dog park or doggy daycare is not even close to the same thing. (Want proof? See the new, exhaustive review of the science on this: Disconnected Lives: Social Networks and Emotional Regulation in Domestic Dogs . Here’s a tidbit from the summary: “Across studies, the pattern is similar: when dogs lose steady companions, they also lose the kind of social buffering that once helped them recover from stress.”)

Start by suggesting a parallel walk with one other dog/human team around the neighborhood. Depending on the dogs, it’s likely best to start with a little distance between you, letting the dogs size each other up casually as you move forward at a brisk pace for as long as it takes for the arousal level to lower. Maybe it’s two minutes. Maybe it’s 30. Maybe they become so comfortable with one another that very first day that there’s butt-sniffing and play-bowing. Maybe not. Either way, do it again soon. Critical advice: Do not quit when it’s not perfect! Two dogs who are at first barking/lunging/snarling can become leash-walk bff’s in three days, but so often humans give up at the first sign of trouble. This is worth working on.

Soon, you’re happily greeting nose-to-nose, and sniffing all of the nooks and crannies together. If you’ve never walked dogs in a group before, you will be astounded by how this kicks the sniffing activity into the stratosphere. They point stuff out to each other, pee up a storm, and become completely bonded through this conversation.

Now that you’re walking well with one dog-human team, add another. And another. Now you’ve got your village.

As things become more comfortable, end the walks with a little play or chill session at one of the houses. (This is particularly ideal for suburban dogs with fenced yards.) If the dogs romp and chase, hallelujah. Think about the great mental/emotional associations being made, here in this spot that is your neighborhood but not your own home. Imagine what this does to your dog’s sense of how safe the world outside her yard is!

Sure, you humans knew nice old Mr. Smith and his terrier, and the sweet Gonzales family with their lab, and the hilarious Levins and their little scruffy guy — but your dog only knew them as unpredictable, unknown things he sometimes saw out of the window. Now he’s grown to feel terrific about each of these dogs, as well as an old man who moves haltingly, a family with young kids who run around yelling, and teenagers who ride bikes and wear hoodies. The act of walking to and from these diverse corners of support in her own neighborhood further builds your dog’s sense of predictability and safety.

(I’m sure that as you read this it has not escaped you that we humans have experienced the very same isolation/deprivation chamber in the past few decades? And we’re also hurting from it? And we also could benefit from the grounding that comes from true connection with our neighbors?)

This is Doable & Transformative

Sounds pie-in-the-sky? Too hard to implement?

Nope. This happens with my clients. In fact, at this stage in my career, I’m coming to the realization that dog-family match-making is possibly the very best thing I can do to improve the lives of my client dogs and their humans. One of the very first things I now do in a consult is look through my notes and see which nice dogs live nearby. I connect the families by text, suggest a joint walk, and offer to supervise if they feel they need it.

Right around the corner from me is a dog who was so skittish the vet asked the owner to loop me in. She could barely come within six feet of me, but she perked up when she saw our dogs. Ah ha! She is now walking every single day with the two dogs across the street from her, and often the one next door. They play at each others’ houses, pet-sit for each other on long days, and explore all over the neighborhood as a group. I still cannot get over the body language I see when I drive by and wave at them on their walk. The bounce! It’s glorious. (Note that the humans are now celebrating holidays together, and sharing beers on the back porch. Build. The. Village.)

I host a puppy socialization group in my home for locals, where, at the age of three months, half a dozen carefully selected pups start coming here twice a week to learn how to play with a handful of canine friends. I graduate them when they’re about six months old, by which time the owners have gotten to know each other during drop-off and pick-up. That last day is sad because we’ve all become so bonded, but soon enough, they’re sending me videos of my graduates playing in each others’ yards, several times a week. Years later, they are still getting together. They dog-sit for each other. I watch the kids from one family having fun treat-filled training sessions with dogs from the other families — again enhancing the young dogs’ sense that Planet Human is predictable (“Oh! I know ‘spin’!”) and therefore not a place where they need to worry so much.

As my client dogs now walk along well-sniffed pathways in their neighborhoods, to various homes that are now well-known and fully predictable to them, I see that — unlike the vast majority of their peers — they have a sense of where they live.

Just like those “lucky” homeless street dogs in India.

This scene from Delhi is typical of what we observed all over India: Relaxed street dogs, napping with friends, in the middle of a busy city walkway.

This dog in Mumbai was completely fine with a trio of cows relaxing in the street, and a dozen foreign tourists meandering through his neighborhood. Before this trip, we had anticipated that the street dogs might mob us for food, or run away from us in fear. Instead, we encountered calm, savvy, well-fed (by the community at large) dogs who would either ignore us, or trot over for a few pets, and then head off when they were done.

We were wildly impressed by the street dogs’ ability to deftly navigate the traffic that flummoxed us as pedestrians.