Trust, Not Control: Building a Partnership with Mrok

Why doesn’t my dog do what I want? Communication and partnership with Mrok.

One of the most important things we learned from Agnieszka and Kuba (Mrok’s trainers) was the need for clear and consistent communication. If I want Mrok to get off the couch, but at the same time I loudly say “NO!” and walk toward him, then... Mrok just got three different messages - none of them showing him clearly what I actually want. So, very likely, Mrok will stay right where he is.

We’re not dog trainers. Everything you read here is just our own observations and experiences. Feel free to take inspiration from them - but always consult everything with your own dog trainer.

How I understand consistency in communication. What I think, what I show, and what I say - they must match, completely. Mrok doesn’t speak our language, but he senses moods, notices gestures, and hears sounds - and he learns which sounds matter if they always mean the same thing.

The couch example would work better like this:

1. I calmly think: “Get off the couch.”

2. I say: “Get off the couch.” (because that’s what I want)

3. I turn away from the couch, showing with my body the direction Mrok can go.

When all of that lines up, Mrok gets off the couch - every time. And just so you know - the couch is just an example. Mrok is free to lounge on it anytime he likes 😊!

Later, I’ll describe a much harder situation: leaving Mrok alone at home when we go to work.

Kuba kept reminding us: If you’re angry at Mrok, show him how you feel. If he did something wrong and knew it, don’t hide your emotions. Dogs feel far more than we do. A clear, honest emotional message builds a type of communication we hadn’t imagined was even possible.

Humans usually think first, and then speak or act. Dogs pick up the idea before we act on it. If our gestures and words match what we’re thinking, the dog can read us even better. The more we pair the same gesture with the same word for the same action, the faster a dog learns.

My biggest mistake with Mrok - wanting a team, but showing something else. Mrok is often off-leash. When he was a puppy, unclipping the leash triggered deep worry in me: what if he runs into the street, gets lost, or gets into a fight?

Every time I unclipped the leash, I was sending him not freedom, but fear.

That’s not how a team works.

Unclipping the leash wasn’t the signal that mattered. Mrok read my stress instead. He would sit in front of me, studying my face, or walk close to me with his head and tail down instead of running freely.

For a moment, I thought, "Maybe he’s just very careful!" But underneath, I was thinking, "Please don’t run away."

Mrok didn’t see the leash coming off as “Yay, let’s run!” He felt the tension before the walk even started.

Kuba often said: Made a mistake? Everyone does. Don’t just say sorry - show it. It’s not about words. It’s about the feeling behind the change.

Building a real team - second attempt. Mrok looks at me, asking, “What’s going on with you?” I try to think of him as a young, curious partner who can learn and show me a lot - if I let him act and express himself.

I used to teach people how to act safely: in the mountains, underwater, during emergencies. But nothing challenged me the way Mrok did.

Humans are easy. You can think one thing, say another, and it still works. But with Mrok, I had to become consistent. He reads not what I say - but what I think, what I show, and what I feel.

How is it now? I’m trying. Not perfect, but always trying to trust Mrok more. And he responds - always. Sometimes differently than I imagined, but always with heart.

I’m learning not to expect. Just to observe, and respond to what’s really happening - not to what I wish was happening.

Practical example: leaving home.

When we go to work, Mrok stays in the room where he has a big crate he loves. At first, getting him there was a fight. He knew what it meant - and didn’t want to go. He would hide, growl, bite.

For me, just knowing I had to get him into the room already ruined my mood. I didn’t want him to suffer - but my stress spoke louder than my words.

I noticed that even an hour before we left, Mrok would crawl under the table, sensing what was coming.

The truth was: I didn’t want to lock him up. I wanted him to nap safely, then head out for a great walk later.

When we started communicating more clearly - no tricks, no force, just honest requests - things changed.

I stopped touching Mrok. I simply asked him to go rest.

One morning, as we were leaving, Mrok was lying under the table, watching us. Then he moved by the door. When we were ready, I thought of the good things ahead - an afternoon walk, peaceful snoring until then - and said:

“Mrok, go rest. We'll come back soon.”

No pressure. Just a calm request.

Mrok looked at me with sad eyes. I turned slightly toward the room door and asked again. Slowly, head down, tail low, he walked into the room.

Since then, every morning has gotten easier.

...and they lived happily ever after. Well, no.

Mrok is smart. Very smart. Once I adjusted and started working as a true partner, he began testing the limits.

“Don’t chase the ducks!” “Okay, I won’t…”...but maybe that other one is fine? You only meant the first duck, right?

“Mrok! I said no chasing ducks!” “Yeah, but that one looked different! And that wasn’t even a duck - it was a crow!”

“Mrok! I told you - no chasing ducks! Can’t you hear me? You’re testing my patience! One more time and you’re back on the leash!” “Fine, fine... clip it on. I’ll find something better later.” 😉

Pushing boundaries is normal. But a real team needs respect and clear rules. Being a dog doesn’t mean you get to skip that.

Remember the big, pleading eyes from Puss in Boots? Mrok has that look. I’m sure your dog does too. 😊