How Humans Accidentally Poison Good Cues
Most cues don’t get ruined on purpose.
They don’t fall apart because the dog is stubborn, manipulative, or testing limits. They fall apart quietly, over time, through a series of very human moments that make complete sense in the moment.
We repeat.
We rush.
We add pressure.
We ask when the dog can’t answer.
And eventually, a cue that once worked beautifully starts to fray.
What a Cue Is Supposed to Be
At its best, a cue is an invitation.
It says, “This is the thing that pays.”
It predicts clarity, success, and reinforcement.
When cues work well, dogs respond quickly not because they have to — but because the cue reliably leads to something good and manageable.
When that relationship shifts, the cue changes meaning.
Repetition Is the First Leak
Repeating cues feels harmless. Logical, even.
Sit. Sit. Sit… SIT.
But repetition teaches something very specific:
the first cue doesn’t matter.
Over time, dogs learn that responding immediately isn’t required. They learn they can wait, scan the environment, or finish whatever they were doing before responding — because the cue will still be there.
The cue didn’t fail.
It was diluted.
Pressure Sneaks In Faster Than We Realize
Pressure doesn’t always look harsh.
Sometimes it sounds like:
a sharper tone
a longer stare
a frustrated sigh
tighter body language
Dogs are experts at reading subtext. They notice when cues stop predicting success and start predicting tension.
When pressure creeps in, dogs don’t ignore cues out of defiance. They hesitate because the cue no longer feels safe or clear.
Asking When the Dog Can’t Answer
One of the fastest ways to poison a cue is to use it in situations where the dog is unlikely to succeed.
High arousal.
High distraction.
High emotional load.
The cue gets said anyway — and then ignored.
Each miss weakens the cue’s meaning. Not because the dog is being difficult, but because the cue is being practiced in failure.
Cues are strengthened by success, not by repetition.
Emotional Leakage Matters
Dogs don’t just learn the word. They learn the moment.
If cues consistently show up when you’re stressed, rushed, or embarrassed, dogs associate the cue with that emotional state.
Eventually, the cue predicts pressure instead of clarity.
This is how a perfectly trained behavior can start to fall apart “for no reason.”
The reason is emotional context.
Nagging Is Still Communication
Nagging often comes from good intentions. We want to give the dog a chance to get it right.
But from the dog’s perspective, nagging blurs the picture.
Is this optional?
Is this urgent?
Is this still the same request?
Clear cues are given once.
Support follows if needed.
Anything else muddies the signal.
How Cues Stay Clean
Clean cues share a few things in common:
they’re given once
they’re used when success is likely
they predict reinforcement
they’re supported, not enforced
If the dog can’t respond, we don’t keep repeating the cue. We help. We change the environment. We lower criteria. Or we abandon the rep entirely.
Protecting the cue protects the behavior.
Fixing a Poisoned Cue
The good news: poisoned cues aren’t broken forever.
They just need repair.
That repair usually means:
stopping the cue temporarily
rebuilding the behavior without the word
reintroducing the cue carefully, in easy contexts
reinforcing generously
It’s not dramatic.
It’s patient.
And it works.
A Subtle Shift
Instead of asking, “Why won’t my dog listen?” try asking:
Was this cue clear?
Was success likely?
What did the cue predict in this moment?
Those questions turn frustration into information.
The Long View
Dogs don’t ignore cues to be difficult.
They ignore cues that have lost clarity, safety, or meaning.
Protecting cues isn’t about control.
It’s about trust.
When cues stay clean, communication stays light — and training stays a conversation instead of a negotiation.
