Leash Training a Small Dog: No More Pulling (Georgie’s Progress)

The first time Georgie met a squirrel on a leash, it was less a greeting and more an attempted rocket launch. My tiny Morkie, all seven pounds of fluff and fury, braced her dainty paws and strained against her harness with the single-minded intensity of a titan pulling a chariot. Her little legs churned, a furious blur of white and tan, while her tail (normally a jaunty question mark) became a rigid exclamation point of determination. The squirrel, bless its bushy tail, merely twitched an ear and continued its nut-burying operations, utterly oblivious to the impending canine-squirrel showdown Georgie was so intent on initiating. I, on the other hand, nearly lost an arm. It was then I realized: even pocket-sized pups need proper leash training, because a little dog pulling feels a lot like a big dog pulling when it’s your shoulder being dislocated.

The myth that small dogs don’t need serious leash training is, frankly, a load of kibble. Just because they’re pint-sized doesn’t mean their pulling isn’t annoying, painful, or even dangerous (for them, if they slip out of a poorly fitted collar, or for you, if you trip). We started Georgie’s leash training journey with a simple premise: walking should be a pleasant experience for both of us, not a tug-of-war. The key, we found, wasn’t about brute force (impossible with a Morkie anyway), but about consistency and positive reinforcement. Every time Georgie’s leash went slack, even for a second, a treat appeared. Every time she veered off course to sniff a particularly interesting blade of grass, we stopped dead in our tracks, waiting until she re-engaged with us before moving forward. It felt painstakingly slow at first, like trying to teach a gnat calculus.

But then, something shifted. One blustery Tuesday, Georgie and I were strolling down the sidewalk, and a particularly tempting leaf skittered across our path. My instinct was to brace for the lunge, but instead, Georgie paused, looked up at me as if to say, “Should I? Can I? Is this allowed?” and then, without prompting, continued walking beside me. The leaf fluttered away, un-pounced upon. It wasn’t perfect, she still has her moments of squirrel-induced madness, but that moment was a revelation. It proved that even for the most spirited, squirrel-obsessed fluffball, the message had finally sunk in: walking nicely gets rewards, pulling gets you nowhere. We’ve graduated from a front-clip harness, which helped immensely in the beginning, to a regular collar for most walks, and the difference is night and day.

The moral of the story? Don’t underestimate the pulling power of a small dog, and don’t assume their size makes them exempt from learning good manners. Invest in a good harness (front-clip if they’re persistent pullers), arm yourself with high-value treats, and be prepared to stop, start, and turn around more times than you thought possible. Be consistent, be patient, and remember that even tiny dogs are capable of learning big lessons.

Start today by making every walk an active training session, not just a potty break.

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