Dogs aren’t misbehaving—they’re just doing exactly what evolution told them to.
People love dogs until they start acting like, well, dogs. The digging, the herding, the barking at nothing for five solid minutes—it’s not mischief, it’s biology. These aren’t quirks to correct. They’re instincts that have been hardwired for thousands of years. Ignoring them doesn’t make them go away. It just makes your dog more stressed and more creative about how to express it. Here’s what not to shut down, even when it’s tempting.
1. Terriers need to dig and pretending they don’t just makes them sneaky.
They weren’t bred to sit on couches and pose for Instagram. Terriers were designed to hunt vermin underground, which makes their urge to dig less of a hobby and more of a compulsion. According to the American Kennel Club, this behavior is deeply ingrained and suppressing it can lead to anxiety and destructive substitute habits. If your terrier isn’t allowed to dig, they’ll find their own version—like tearing up carpet or dismantling the couch. Give them a digging pit or sandbox, and you’ll see instant satisfaction.
2. Herding breeds will chase, nip, and corral unless you give them a job.
Border Collies, Australian Shepherds, Corgis—they’re not hyper, they’re unemployed. As stated by the ASPCA, herding dogs have specific motor patterns baked into their DNA that include chasing, circling, and nipping. That’s not defiance, it’s genetic programming. Shutting it down completely doesn’t work. Instead, they need structured outlets like agility, herding balls, or advanced obedience routines. If you don’t redirect the drive, it’ll show up anyway—usually in chaotic ways involving children, skateboards, or anything that moves faster than a walk.
3. Sighthounds are supposed to bolt after anything that flickers.
Greyhounds, Whippets, Salukis—they were built for speed, not recall. As discovered by the Humane Society of the United States, sighthounds have exaggerated prey drives and visual tracking systems that tell them to chase first, think later. Trying to “train it out” is like telling a hawk to stop noticing mice. It doesn’t work. Instead, they need secure areas where they can run freely without risk. Leash laws don’t mean a lifetime of denial. They just mean you need to plan better for what they were born to do.
4. Hounds will follow their nose straight through a screen door.
If you own a scent hound, you don’t walk them—they walk the world with their face. Beagles, Bassets, Bloodhounds are all wired to track scent like it’s oxygen. Interrupting that process can frustrate them to the point of shutdown. The solution isn’t to pull them away every time they sniff. It’s to slow down and let them do what they do best. You’ll get fewer leash battles and way more mental enrichment just by giving them time to read the world through their nose.
5. Guard breeds aren’t suspicious—they’re fulfilling their purpose.
Rottweilers, Cane Corsos, Dobermans don’t relax around strangers because they weren’t designed to. These dogs come from lines meant to protect homes, herds, and people. That natural wariness is not a flaw. It’s the reason they’re effective. If you punish a guard breed for being cautious or alert, you’re punishing their DNA. Better to focus on exposure and management than trying to make them into golden retrievers. They don’t want to be greeters. They want to be sentries.
6. Retrievers feel incomplete if they don’t have something in their mouth.
It’s not chewing. It’s carrying. Retrievers were bred to gently bring game back to their humans, and that soft-mouthed carry drive doesn’t just disappear. A bored retriever will find their own version of a “retrieve”—like socks, remotes, or the occasional loaf of bread. If you never give them an outlet, it backfires in weird ways. Simple fix: provide them with soft toys, balls, or even small tasks like bringing you the mail. It’s not about the object. It’s about completing the loop.
7. Northern breeds will howl even when you beg them not to.
Huskies, Malamutes, and other northern breeds didn’t evolve in silence. They howl because their ancestors communicated across long distances in the snow-covered wilderness. Trying to teach them to be quiet all the time is like duct-taping a violin and wondering why the music sounds flat. Better to work on a cue that teaches when it’s okay and when it’s not. Suppressing the instinct entirely just builds frustration and turns your dog into a sulky roommate with unexpressed opinions.
8. Some dogs really are hardwired to pull, not heel.
Sled dogs weren’t bred for polite walking. They were bred to haul. That doesn’t mean they can’t learn leash manners, but it does mean you shouldn’t expect them to love it. For dogs like Alaskan Huskies or Samoyeds, pulling feels as natural as stretching. The more you try to shut it down, the more creative they’ll get about resisting. Instead of treating it like a behavior problem, lean into harness work, urban mushing, or even canicross. It’s about channeling, not erasing.
9. Barking isn’t just noise—it’s your dog’s version of group chat.
Some breeds—like Shelties, Chihuahuas, and even Schnauzers—use barking the way we use group texts. It’s how they process the world, signal change, and express excitement or warning. Shutting it down completely doesn’t just silence the noise. It shuts off their sense of agency. You can teach boundaries, sure. But trying to make a naturally vocal dog “silent” never works out. It just leads to frustration that leaks out sideways in digging, chewing, pacing, or anxiety. Let them speak, just teach them when to hit mute.