etting a dog for the first time is a trying experience but also an educative one. I knew this even before I brought home Shere Khan, my recently adopted Labrador pup. I thought it would be easy if the puppy was as young as five weeks old, but that fantasy was shattered soon when I found out that in most cases — and most countries — a dog can’t be adopted until about eight weeks old, and that they are kept with their mothers and litter until Week Six.

It is Day 3 as I write this and Shere Khan sleeps under my chair so the sun doesn’t get into his eyes, but mostly because dogs are den animals and like shelter. This, of course, is one of the several random bits of information I have gathered in the highly educational last two days.

As for many, when faced with a challenge, ChatGPT was the obvious go-to place for me. The assumption was that it would give me a holistic picture of how to solve problems like those related to bringing home a puppy. It seemed to be working fine. Shere Khan was happy in his den that I had fashioned out of a large empty carton. I kept one side open so he could easily enter and exit at will. This was contrary to what ChatGPT and online videos recommended: ‘crating’ the animal. For those who don’t know, crating is the process of putting a dog inside a see-through crate which (to me at least) resembles a cage in a zoo. That idea didn’t sit well with me at all. Being no fan of zoos or animals in cages, there had to be a strong NO from me.

It was strange, though, because most dog-trainers on YouTube and even ChatGPT seemed to be giving compassionate advice. However, to me, there was nothing compassionate about ‘crating’ a dog.

Upon arrival, Shere Khan figured out that the carton with cushioning was his den, the bowl of water (stainless steel always) was for him to drink out of and that the corner with gravel was for him to relieve himself. I was shocked at how quickly he had figured out that last one.

There was one problem: he wouldn’t get inside. My room is right next to the balcony, but despite encouragement, he refused to walk inside. It wasn’t that he was scared of me — he warmed up to me as soon as we met — but somehow he was afraid of getting inside the house.

I was fine with that since the balcony is safe and secure. The only problem was whenever I went inside, he’d start whimpering. Since I couldn’t sleep outside, this meant a night of great distress for both me and him. After sleeping for only four hours, I woke up to find that he had nervously relieved himself at the wrong places (although still not in his den) and that he was grabbing on to my ankle with front paws as well as biting on it with his teeth as if to pull. ChatGPT told me that this was a symptom of separation anxiety, but this didn’t make the bites any less painful or bothersome.

The next day, whenever I took him out the problem recurred. ChatGPT and a couple of my friends recommended that when he bites my ankle, I should offer him a toy, divert the animal to (bite) the toy and praise him when he switches. ‘Positive reinforcement’ was to be the key. This did not seem to work. He continually bit me when I fed him or when I took him out after a meal. It seemed like he thought it was fun. He wouldn’t switch to the toys I offered, even though he’d chew on them in his less excitable moments. This made me a little sceptical about the advice I was getting.

I went back to the good old Google search and, sure enough, the first result that came up was a blog entry from a professional dog trainer who had a very different recommendation to make. Much to my relief, the trainer validated my concerns and said that the situation I was facing could be a dominance issue instead of mere teething. He advised holding his muzzle when he bit and calmly say, “No bite!” He also recommended using as much force as necessary.

Needless to say, this wasn’t easy to do to a five-week-old puppy, but it was necessary. So, I did it, and it seems to be working so far. Shere Khan hasn’t stopped biting but does it much less frequently, and whenever he does, I take the dog trainer’s advice and hold his muzzle and say, “No bite!” He stops and then sits down at a little distance from me.

All this sort of broke the spell of ‘cuteness’ I was under and gave me some real perspective. I loved this dog but I was also going to be living with him for the next decade and a half. I needed to train him so that he’d be lovable, not a nuisance.

More importantly, it reminded me to not project feelings fit for humans onto a dog. It reminded me that dogs are to be loved like dogs but also that they need to be made aware of who runs the show. This has brought me to Cesar Millan (aka the Dog Whisperer) and his theory of “being the pack leader” which I was first exposed to in a TV show that featured him and left a great impact on me.

It’s interesting that a nudge from a dog trainer has brought me back to this 20th-Century Mexican-American canine professional whose philosophy resonated with me many years ago.

As I begin to read a book by Millan, listen to others that share his philosophy and spend time with Shere Khan, I’m sure I’ll get to learn many new lessons about owner-dog relationship on the surface but essentially of a more philosophical nature. The lesson for this week has been that love does not mean being hurt and tolerating it.

Uneeb Nasir writes about culture, art and identity. More of his work can be found on medium.com/@uneebnasir