Why I Guard My Shit: A Dog’s No-Bullshit Guide for Humans
So You Think I'm The Problem? Let Me Explain.
Hey, it’s me—“Quiet!” “Drop it!” “Leave it!” Honestly, I’m not even sure what my name is anymore because you talk so freaking much. But yeah, I’m the one with the tiny paws, big personality, and a knack for guarding my treasures like a dragon in a Disney movie.
We need to have a chat, human, because clearly, you don’t get it. When I growl, freeze, or give you my back-off-now face, it’s not because I hate you or I’m plotting world domination (yet). It’s because you’re stressing me the hell out. So, grab your coffee, sit down, and let me explain why I guard my stuff—and why you’re probably making it worse.
It’s My Stuff, Not Yours
Look, I don’t waltz into your office, snatch your phone out of your hand, and growl, “Mine now.” So, maybe don’t do that to me?
When I guard something, it’s not because I hate you. It’s because I don’t want you—or anyone else in this house—to take it from me. Especially the freaking cat. Do you know how rare it is to find a chew toy with just the right squeak? Or a sock that’s been perfectly aged under the couch? You don’t, because you don’t value the finer things in life like I do.
Why I Guard Stuff
Before you label me a jerk, let me explain where I’m coming from:
1. Fear of Loss
Maybe I had to fight for food before I came into your life. Maybe I’ve seen you casually take my favorite chew toy “for cleaning” and never give it back. Whatever the case, I’m just not convinced that I’ll get to keep the good stuff if you’re around.
2. Learned Behavior
Oh, you don’t like my growl? Too bad, because it works. Every time I give you that back off, Brenda rumble and you back away, it reinforces my belief that guarding my stuff is the way to go.
3. Genetics and Temperament
Some dogs are just born this way, okay? Blame evolution. My ancestors were badass hoarders, and I’m carrying on the family tradition.
Why You’re Making It Worse
You think you’re the boss, right? You see me happily chewing on my bone, and your first thought is to take it away because “I should be able to.” Newsflash: just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
Here’s how you’re screwing this up:
You Grab Stuff Like a Jerk
If you’re going to snatch things out of my mouth, don’t be surprised when I defend myself. It’s not a mystery.
You Leave Temptations Everywhere
Socks, shoes, leftover pizza crusts—what do you expect me to do? Not take them? You’re delusional, Janet.
You Assume I’m Fine With It
Would you be okay with me sticking my nose in your plate mid-dinner? No? Then maybe extend the same courtesy to me.
How to Stop Pissing Me Off
If you want me to stop guarding my stuff, we need to change how you approach me. Here’s what you need to do:
1. Don’t Be an Asshole About It
If I have something in my mouth, ask yourself:
• Is this thing dangerous?
• Will it kill me if I eat it?
• Is it worth losing a finger over?
If the answer is no, let me keep it. Seriously, just let it go. Your world won’t end if I chew on a stick for five minutes.
2. Stop Leaving Your Shit Everywhere
If you don’t want me guarding your socks, shoes, or godforsaken TV remote, maybe don’t leave them where I can get them. It’s not rocket science. Help me help you.
3. Teach Me a Cue That Means Something Good
Here’s an idea: why don’t you turn off the damn TV and actually teach me what you want me to do instead of barging in like the FBI every time I’ve got something in my mouth?
Pick a word—“Here!” or “Yes!”—and pair it with something amazing, like tossing me a piece of chicken or cheese. Every time you say that magic word, I’ll start associating it with “Ooh, jackpot!”
Do this consistently, and guess what? Eventually, I’ll leave whatever I’m chewing on and come running to you like a contestant on The Price is Right. Not because you scared me, but because I’m actually excited to see what you’ve got.
See? It’s not rocket science. Teach me to come to you, and I’ll gladly leave my treasure behind. But you’ve got to put in the work, Karen. No shortcuts, no snatching—just a little patience and a lot of treats. Deal?
4. Respect My Damn Space
When I’m enjoying my bone, don’t hover over me like you’re investigating a crime scene. I’m not hiding state secrets, just gnawing on a stick. Relax.
Things You Should NEVER Do
Let me be very clear:
Don’t Grab My Stuff
Unless it’s a loaded gun or a block of rat poison, leave it alone.
Don’t Freak Out
Your panic makes me panic. Calm down, Karen.
Don’t Punish Me for Growling
My growl is a warning, not a threat. Punish me for it, and next time, I might skip the warning. Your call.
I’m Not a Jerk, You’re Just Annoying
I guard my stuff either because I feel like I have to or because my ancestors handed me some pretty badass genetics that make me naturally good at it. Either way, the way you’re going to fix this isn’t by barging into my space like you’re entitled to whatever I’m holding onto, Karen. Nope, the solution is changing the way I feel about you when you approach me.
You want me to chill out? Cool. Toss me a treat, respect my space, and put in some actual work to show me you’re not here to steal my bone or my dignity. Make me feel better about you being near my stuff, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll stop having these little standoffs.
It’s not that hard, human. Stop acting like the FBI raiding a crime scene, toss me some snacks, and we’ll get along just fine. I promise.
Ready to Take Your Training Seriously (Finally)?
I’m glad you’re finally learning about why I do what I do. But let’s not stop here, okay? You’ve got work to do—like teaching me to focus, improving my recall, and building reliable behaviors that make both our lives easier.
Check out those fancy Online Courses you keep pretending you don’t need (spoiler: you do), or grab the Building Food Motivation PDF on Etsy. Seriously, we’ll both be better for it. Clear, step-by-step guidance that makes you less annoying?
Oh, and while you’re at it, meet the trainers at Training Dogs Online.
Sincerely,
Your Dog (and Keeper of All That’s Precious)