Fear, rock climbing, and dog training

Resolving deep-seated fears is hard work—for humans and dogs.

This sweet pup unfortunately struggles with alone time

I was always a fearful rock climber. I still am—though sadly I don’t climb as much these days. When I started leading routes, the typical advice was to take on fear headfirst by taking big falls. The thinking was that once we find we’re OK after taking a few whippers, our fear would subside.

Maybe that works for some people, but it never did for me. As I detailed in a 2019 feature in Climbing, those of us who are very fearful of falling do not benefit from ripping the bandaid off in this way. If I’m scared, and I take a fall, and I’m still scared while falling—guess what? I’ve only reinforced in my brain that falling is, in fact, scary! We can’t simply get used to something if we are exposing ourselves to the scary thing while already in a state of panic.

The approach the experts I talked to suggested was instead more incremental: finding the point at which I start to feel scared, and working just below that threshold to grow more confident. That might mean climbing up to the height that scares me, taking, and then just hanging out on the wall until I feel more relaxed. It might mean climbing easier routes that make me feel strong and secure. The idea is to introduce a less scary version of the scenario until you feel you can comfortably level up to a more challenging version. I’m definitely not cured of climbing fear these days, but I’m more comfortable and also more empathetic with myself—I don’t force myself into climbing situations I know are too much.

Anyway, enough about climbing. How does all this relate to dogs?

Well, to start, dogs, like humans, have emotions that are often out of their control. Just like I can’t will myself to no longer be scared of lead falls, a dog with separation anxiety can’t force themselves to calm down when left alone (or be forced to calm down by a human). 

Animal behaviorists emphasize that your dog’s fear—and behaviors that result from fear like barking and destructive chewing—is not disobedience. Our dog trainer likens leaving a separation anxiety dog alone to locking up a person with arachnophobia in a room full of spiders. Just like resolving a human’s spider phobia means starting easy, with plushie spiders, so too behavior professionals recommend a program of gradual exposure for canine fears.

Resolving fears—for humans or dogs—is hard work. I think the systematic process required runs against a societal tendency to look for quick fixes and it also forces us to acknowledge that dogs, like us, have strong emotions they can’t control. 

Embracing this reality, though, is a practice in empathy. I will happily toprope at the gym these days if I don’t feel up to leading. In the past, I’ve felt pressure to always lead every time I’m at the gym. I work climbing projects more gradually now, and as a result I feel more psyched and confident when I do go for the redpoint lead. With our dog, we’re adding alone time in increments and associating it with her favorite treat—a raw marrow bone. 

By changing how she feels about alone time, I’m hopeful she can eventually be at ease with our departures—just like how I’ve changed my emotions on the rock.