I hate feeling confused. Don’t you?
It makes me anxious, frustrated, and sometimes even a little grumpy.
Now, imagine how I feel when I realize I’m the reason my dog is confused. Yep. It turns out that there are quite a few things I do that leave her totally puzzled.
Take my Jack Russell Terrier, for example. Sometimes, she stares at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. Other times, she just starts barking at full volume because she has no idea what I want from her.
So, I started paying attention – and guess what? I found a bunch of things I do every day that don’t make sense to her.
Why dogs get confused by humans
Dogs are smart, but they see the world very differently from us. What feels normal or kind to you might be unclear or even stressful to your dog. And since they can’t talk back, we often miss the signs.
That’s why it helps to understand things from their point of view – starting with how we behave at home.
7 things that confuse my dog
| Things I do | Why it confuses my dog |
|---|---|
| I share my space too freely | She sees people near the fence as a threat to her territory. |
| I leave her alone | She’s okay with it, but some dogs (like my mom’s) get anxious. |
| I hug too much | Dogs don’t naturally hug; it can feel threatening. |
| I stop her from chewing rocks | She doesn’t understand why chewing rocks is a no-go. |
| I use my hands for everything | Hands do both good (petting) and bad (nail trims) things. |
| I don’t like being bitten | Puppy play bites are normal to her, not painful. |
| I change how I look and smell | Scent and shape changes make her unsure if it’s really me. |
I share my space too freely
We live in the suburbs of Varna, so we don’t exactly have a postman walking up to our door. But we do get a steady stream of people passing by, usually heading uphill toward the bus stop.
And Leksi? She does not approve.
She starts barking the moment someone gets too close to the fence. For her, that’s a boundary. Strangers walking nearby aren’t just “passing by” – they’re intruding on her space.
I might know they’re harmless, but she doesn’t. To her, this is her territory, and she wants to keep it safe. Even if that just means loudly expressing her displeasure from behind the fence.
I leave her alone
Leksi is pretty independent. She’s not one of those dogs who follows me from room to room or gets upset if I leave her for a bit.
But not all dogs are like that. Take my mom’s dog, for example – she’s like a little shadow. If my mom stands up, she stands up. If she goes to the bathroom, she literally pushes the door open to join her.
That kind of attachment is sweet… and a bit intense. When left alone, dogs like her can feel abandoned or anxious, even if it’s just for a few minutes. It’s not about the time. It’s about being separated from their favorite person.
I hug too much
I’m a hugger. And I used to assume Leksi liked it, too. She’d let me hug her, but she always looked a little… unsure.
Eventually, I realized that tight, human-style hugs aren’t very “dog-friendly.”
Dogs don’t really hug. When they wrap around each other, it’s usually play, dominance, or something that needs a quick escape. So when I go in for a big squeeze, Leksi isn’t thinking, “Aww, love!” – she’s probably wondering if she’s in trouble.
Now, I try to read her body language and let her decide when she wants closeness.
I stop her from chewing rocks
Leksi is a picky eater. She turns her nose up at leftovers and rarely bothers with trash.
But give her a small rock, and she’s thrilled.
She’ll find one, sit down, and start chewing like it’s a gourmet snack. It’s weird, I know – and honestly, it worries me. So, of course, I try to stop her every time.
The problem? She doesn’t understand why. She’s not hurting anyone (yet), and she thinks it’s fun. So, every time I take it away, she looks confused, as if I just ruined her favorite hobby.
I use my hands – she uses her mouth
I use my hands for just about everything – eating, holding, scratching, opening doors, you name it.
Leksi? She uses her mouth.
That’s how she explores the world, shows affection, plays, and sometimes communicates what she wants. So when I reach out to her, she has to figure out what’s coming next.
Is it a treat? A belly rub? Or… nail trimming? (Definitely her least favorite.) Because I use my hands for both fun and not-so-fun stuff, she can’t always predict what’s about to happen—and that can leave her a little unsure.
I don’t like being bitten
When Leksi was a puppy, she’d sometimes nip during play. It wasn’t aggressive; it was her way of having fun.
Dogs use their mouths to play-fight with each other. It’s normal in their world. But to us? A bite – even a small one – can hurt.
So, of course, we react: we flinch, we say “no,” we stop the game. And that’s confusing for them. They’re trying to bond, and suddenly, the fun stops.
Over time, Leksi learned what’s okay and what’s not. But in the beginning, our reactions probably didn’t make much sense to her.
I change how I look and smell
Leksi changes her coat once or twice a year. I change mine every day.
One day I’m in gym clothes. The next, I’m wrapped up in a jacket with a scarf and big sunglasses. Sometimes I wear hats. Sometimes I don’t.
Add in perfumes, hand creams, cleaning sprays, or even a different shampoo – and suddenly, I smell a bit different too.
Dogs rely heavily on scent and shape to recognize people. So when I walk in looking and smelling like someone else, Leksi pauses. She stares. She sniffs. And she looks at me like, “Wait… is that you?”
Final thoughts
Dogs are amazing companions, but they don’t always understand our world, and honestly, we don’t always understand theirs.
What seems totally normal to us can feel strange, stressful, or just plain confusing to them. And even when we mean well, it’s easy to send mixed signals without realizing it.
Luckily, dogs are forgiving and incredibly patient with us. The more we learn to see things from their point of view, the better we can connect with them, respect their needs, and avoid confusion (on both sides).
Got a dog that looks at you like you’re speaking Martian sometimes? You’re not alone. 🐶