Dog rearing takes a village, but where are the villagers?
How Supportive Communities Became Factional Battlegrounds
There was a time when walking your dog in the city meant connecting with a neighbourhood of fellow carers. People looked out for each other’s dogs, offered practical help, and shared knowledge freely.
It was human, messy, and imperfect but it worked.
Now, that collaborative spirit has fractured and it’s gotten so bad where we live in Wembley Park that we’ve decided to sell up and heading out rather than expose ourselves and our dogs to this toxicity any longer.
A culture of judgment and elitism has crept in, replacing cooperation with competition. What used to be a shared effort in raising healthy, balanced dogs has turned into a game of who’s doing it “right” which inevitably leads to a witch-hunt as everyone else must be doing it wrong.
From Shared Wisdom to Siloed Tribes
Training approaches are no longer just methods or philosophies, instead, they’re markers of identity. Positive reinforcement (R+) advocates sometimes dismiss any use of interruption or boundaries, treating it as abuse. Balanced trainers are often painted as out-of-date or even cruel. The result? Constructive discussion disappears. Guardians stop sharing ideas for fear of being shamed or attacked.
The real loss here is nuance. Most experienced carers know that every dog is different. What works for a high-drive collie might fail completely for a nervous rescue greyhound. But instead of recognising this complexity, many urban dog spaces now reward ideological loyalty over real-world results.
The Rise of the “Canine Child” and the Pressure to Perform
In 2024, a survey by The Times found that 16% of UK dog guardians now describe their dogs as their “children”, while a growing number report putting off or opting out of parenthood altogether in favour of raising dogs. This shift in perspective has real cultural impact: decisions about feeding, training, and daily care now carry the same weight and judgement that has long been the battleground for human parenting debates.
Feeding, in particular, has become a flashpoint. Raw food enthusiasts argue theirs is the only “natural” choice. Boutique brands charge £70 or more per month, while subscription plans package meals like Michelin dog tasting menus. Guardians who choose kibble whether for convenience, budget, or medical reasons are often talked down to, or excluded from conversation altogether.
These aren’t conversations about canine health. They’re status contests.
The Isolation of the Sole Carer
The more polarised things become, the fewer people feel safe asking questions or sharing struggles. According to PFMA data, 67% of UK guardians say they feel solely responsible for their dog’s wellbeing, while just 18% report leaning on a network of peers or neighbours. A generation ago, nearly half of urban dog carers regularly shared duties or advice with others.
This isolation matters. Dogs raised with limited exposure to different training styles, people, and environments often develop stress-related behaviours or rigid coping habits. And human guardians suffer in emotional and practical ways without a community to lean on.
Why Diverse Experience Still Wins
Dogs don’t thrive on doctrine. They thrive on trust, consistency, stimulation, and variety. Real-world experience (the kind you can’t learn from YouTube tutorials or dog training influencers) is crucial. The same dog may need a different approach at three years old than it did at six months.
Yet too many urban spaces now treat any deviation from a preferred style as neglect. Instead of helping newer guardians find what works, they shame them into silence. And that helps no one.
It Takes a Village — But the Villagers Are Being Driven Away
Cities used to be great places to raise a dog. People stepped in when others were struggling. Guardians swapped tips and took turns helping socialise pups. But now? Every park, forum, and café seems filled with side-eyes and silent judgment.
Dogs are sentient beings. They deserve carers who feel confident and supported and not scrutinised. That means returning to a culture of openness, humility, and collaboration.
Because the truth hasn’t changed: it takes a village to raise a well-adjusted dog. But we’re scaring the villagers away. If we want to fix it, we need to stop policing each other’s leashes, diets, and training cues and start rebuilding the trust that made dog guardianship a shared human experience in the first place.
Perhaps we could all stand to put a little compassion into our treat pouches next time we head outside.
