Progress Isn’t Linear (And That’s Not a Problem)

If you’ve ever thought, “We were doing so well… what happened?” — you’re not alone.

Most people come to training with a quiet expectation that progress should look like a steady climb. Each week a little better. Each month a little easier. Fewer hiccups, fewer setbacks, fewer moments that make you question everything you thought you were building.

And when that doesn’t happen — when things wobble, regress, or feel suddenly harder — it’s easy to assume something has gone wrong.

But here’s the thing:
That expectation was never realistic in the first place.

Not for dogs.
Not for people.
Not for learning.

Progress isn’t linear. And that’s not a failure of training — it’s a feature of how brains actually work.

The Myth of the Straight Line

We like straight lines because they’re comforting. They tell a simple story: do the work, get the result.

But real learning doesn’t move in straight lines. It loops. It stalls. It spikes forward and then slides sideways. Sometimes it looks worse before it looks better — not because the dog is “backsliding,” but because the context has changed.

A behavior that looks solid in the living room suddenly falls apart outside. A dog who seemed calm last week is suddenly over the top this week. A skill that felt easy yesterday feels fragile today.

That doesn’t mean the foundation disappeared.
It means the environment, the expectations, or the emotional load changed.

Learning is contextual. Brains don’t generalize automatically. Dogs don’t carry success from one setting into another unless we help them do that.

When we forget this, we mistake normal variation for regression.

When Progress Looks Messy

One of the most counterintuitive things about training is this:
progress often looks messier before it looks cleaner.

As dogs gain confidence, they try things. As expectations shift, they experiment. As environments become more stimulating, behaviors can get louder, faster, or less polished — not because the dog is “forgetting,” but because the situation is asking more of them.

This is especially true when emotional regulation is part of the picture.

A dog learning to stay under threshold doesn’t suddenly become calm everywhere. They oscillate. They succeed, then struggle, then succeed again. Their nervous system is practicing flexibility, not perfection.

The mess isn’t a setback.
It’s information.

Exposure Isn’t Regression

There’s a familiar moment many people hit in training. Things feel good, so they widen the circle: new places, more distractions, higher expectations.

And then — suddenly — the dog looks like they’ve forgotten everything.

What’s really happening is exposure.

The skill didn’t disappear. It just hasn’t been practiced in this context yet. Progress didn’t reverse — the environment advanced faster than the behavior.

That’s not a reason to scrap the plan. It’s a cue to slow the picture back down and rebuild where you are.

Plateaus Aren’t Wasted Time

Not all non-linear progress looks dramatic. Sometimes it looks like nothing much at all.

Weeks where things feel flat. Sessions that don’t sparkle. Repetition without obvious payoff.

Plateaus are uncomfortable because they don’t offer feedback. But they’re often where consolidation happens — where skills stabilize and patterns quietly wire together.

You don’t always see it happening.
That doesn’t mean it isn’t.

Rushing through plateaus creates fragile behavior. Staying with them builds depth.

The Cost of Expecting Perfection

When we expect smooth, predictable progress, every wobble feels personal.

We start questioning our timing, our consistency, our dog — and that pressure leaks into training whether we want it to or not. Dogs notice heavy expectations. They feel urgency, tension, and disappointment even when we’re trying to hide it.

Ironically, the more we push for clean progress, the harder learning becomes.

Letting go of the straight-line expectation isn’t about lowering standards. It’s about creating enough room for learning to happen without pressure.

What Progress Looks Like When You Zoom Out

If you zoom out far enough, progress does have a direction.

It shows up as:

• faster recovery after excitement

• shorter spirals instead of long ones

• more frequent moments of connection

• easier reorientation after mistakes

Not perfect behavior.
More resilience.

Those changes are subtle when you’re living inside them. They accumulate quietly, often noticed only in hindsight.

A Better Question

When things feel messy, instead of asking “Why is this going backward?” try asking:

• What’s harder right now?

• What changed in the environment?

• What might my dog be processing?

• What support would make this easier?

Those questions keep you in curiosity instead of judgment.

And curiosity is where good training lives.

The Long View

If you’re in a dip right now, it doesn’t mean you missed your chance. If something feels harder than it did last week, it doesn’t erase the work you’ve done.

Learning unfolds over time, not in straight lines.

Progress isn’t linear.
It never was.

And once you stop expecting it to be, training gets quieter, steadier, and a whole lot kinder — for both ends of the leash.