Muzzle training

A fluffy light-brown Chow Chow rests its head on a wooden floor, looking forward with a calm but somber expression.

Many years ago, I owned a dog who despised all human beings except for those who resided in his household.

He was a dominant, intelligent, powerful, strong-willed animal who had an opinion about most things happening around him, and he never hesitated to express this opinion if he felt that someone was pressing his buttons. What made things most difficult for him was the fact that he was a Chow-Chow, and he was what most people describe as “cute.”

Those who knew him well respected his space. Those who did not know him immediately melted upon seeing his fluffy face and considered his reserved disposition as calm and friendly. Calm he was; he could also be tolerant, but friendly – almost never.

His looks made it immensely difficult to bring this dog out in public.

Anywhere we went, all I heard was “Awww, he is so cute!” in best case scenario, and in worst case I had to physically push people’s hands away from my dog, for their own safety, because me yelling “Do not touch please!” had no effect. People wanted to touch the cute fluffy dog, and they wanted to do it NOW. Some individuals even pushed their children towards my dog to pet him.

My dog was well trained and never bit anyone, but I did not want to take chances.
My choice was to either move out of the city to countryside and never take my dog out in public to avoid unnecessary attention, or to do something that will protect silly entitled humans from getting snapped at and, potentially, bit, and, ultimately, protect me from a lawsuit. I decided that the second option was better and trained my dog to wear a muzzle.

For a dog who has a solid obedience on them and has no issues being handled muzzle training is a no brainer. It took me a couple of days at most before he was comfortable wearing it anywhere.

However, on our very first public promenade at a park, I met an unexpected obstacle: people felt sorry for my cute fluffy dog. One older lady approached me and started explaining that muzzles are for vicious dogs, such as pit bulls and rottweilers, and my sweetheart of a pet should be free of such a burden.

A mother with two young children hissed at me and dragged her children away, muttering that such a treatment of a dog is simply cruel.

I was genuinely puzzled. But then someone kindly explained to me that muzzles were in the same pile as prong collars, chain collars, e-collars, and anything that was not a harness. They were a tool clearly designed to abuse dogs.

For reasons unrelated we did, eventually, move to a much smaller town with a fewer people. Our muzzle was demoted to a décor on my shelf, were it continued to reside long after my Chow-Chow passed away.

I almost forgot about this experience since it was largely irrelevant. However, I was reminded of it again.

Very recently I saw a small-sized dog wearing a basket-style muzzle almost identical to the one that I have and overheard how this dog’s owner was conversing with somebody else about the difficulties that by-passers seem to have with his situation.

This brings me to the main point of this post.

A muzzle is one of the oldest and most useful tools in a dog owner’s arsenal.

Muzzles can be a lifesaver for a dog who “inhales” and swallows all kinds of garbage from the ground faster than its owner can take a breath to say “no.”

In some large Canadian and American cities dogs who travel by public transit must wear muzzles. This is a law and there is no getting around it.

In many dog sports, such as French ring, there are exercises that include a dog wearing a muzzle.

A muzzle helps veterinarians and groomers to administer procedures without risking getting bitten.

A muzzle does not prevent a dog from breathing. It does not cause them pain (unlike face halters). A muzzle does not choke a dog. There is nothing cruel or wrong about it.

What is wrong, though, is the attitude regarding muzzles. Nobody, except for a dog owner who is using a muzzle, knows why they are using it.
Maybe, their dog struggles with seasonal allergies and chews off its skin without it.
Maybe, their dog is not friendly, and they are on their way to school to pick up their kids.
Nobody knows why and, quite frankly, it is nobody’s business.

Teaching a dog to wear a muzzle should not be shameful and it should not have to be advocated for. If anything, it is useful and liberating and, like most obedience skills, it promotes good relationship and trust.