May 4 / Dr Teresa Tyler

Other Ways of Knowing Dogs: Intuition, Embodiment, and Relationship Beyond Training

Other Ways of Knowing Dogs: Intuition, Embodiment, and Relationship Beyond Training.
I’ve spent much of my life around dogs; studying them, working with them, living alongside them. Like many in this field, I’ve come to value behavioural science, learning theory, and evidence-based dog training. These frameworks have offered powerful tools to improve canine welfare and strengthen the human-dog bond.
Yet over time, I’ve come to feel that something is missing. Not everything I know about dogs has come from textbooks, scientific papers, or training protocols.
Many of the most profound insights have emerged in quiet, unexpected moments; the pause before a dog leans her head into my hand, the shift of breath as they settle by my side, or the unspoken sense that something in our interaction has changed. There are other ways of knowing dogs, and I believe we need to talk about them.  
The Limits of Science

There’s no question that scientific approaches have transformed our understanding of dog behaviour and welfare. They have freed us from outdated myths of dominance, given us tools like positive reinforcement, and allowed us to make more humane, informed decisions. But when we treat science as the only lens for understanding dogs, something narrows. Dogs are not merely objects of study; they are participants in relationship. And some of what we come to know about them lives outside formal knowledge; in the realm of feeling, intuition, and lived experience.

One of the richest ways I’ve come to know dogs is through embodied awareness.

Embodied Knowing

When I work with a dog, my body often knows before my mind does: the slight tension in my shoulders when a dog shifts into arousal; the synchrony of movement when we walk together; the subtle dance of give and take on the lead.

Learning to listen with my whole body, not just with sight or sound, but with presence, has taught me more than any book could. This kind of knowing emerges from attunement, from being open and responsive in the moment.

 

Intuitive Knowing

There’s also the knowing that arises without conscious reasoning. Over the years, I’ve learned to trust the feeling that 'something’s off,' even when I can’t yet explain why.

This intuition doesn’t appear from nowhere, it’s built through experience, observation, trial and error. A recent example was taking one of my dogs, Henry, to the vet to be tested for Leishmania. He looked perfectly fit and healthy, but I had a hunch. Sure enough, the tests came back positive.
It’s the quiet voice that draws together what I’ve seen, felt, and learned, and helps me respond flexibly and sensitively to the needs of the dog in front of me.

 

Relational Knowing

Perhaps most profoundly, my knowledge of dogs is shaped through relationship.

I don’t truly know a dog just by assessing behaviour or temperament. I come to know them through the history we build together: the trust, the disastrous breaks and long, slow repairs, the moments of connection and joy.

When I think of the dogs I know best, I remember not just their 'behaviours' but their particularities, the small, unique ways they express themselves. This is a form of knowledge that grows only through time, care, and attention.

 

Cultural and Narrative Knowing

I also know dogs through the stories I carry, personal, cultural, ancestral. Across cultures, dogs are framed as protectors, workers, companions, or spiritual guides. These stories shape what we expect from dogs and what we allow them to be.

Being mindful of these narratives helps me hold my knowledge humbly, recognising that my way of seeing dogs is just one among many in a blinkered, westernised context.

 

A Humble Ending

In the end, what I come back to is humility. No matter how much I learn, dogs remain partly mysterious. And maybe that’s not a failing, but a gift.

Knowing dogs is not about mastering or fully 'decoding' them. It’s about meeting them, again and again, with curiosity, respect, and a willingness to be changed.

So alongside our science, methods, and training techniques, let’s make room for other ways of knowing. Let’s allow ourselves to feel, to listen, to be moved. Because in doing so, we may discover that dogs have far more to teach us, not just about themselves, but about how to be fully human in their presence.


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