Paddington: From Living in the Red to Finding His Rhythm

From managing the neighborhood to exploring it together

Paddington has the kind of eyes people remember. They are big, golden, almost glowing, and usually attached to a very enthusiastic Wirehaired Pointing Griffon who greets me by bringing me one of his favorite toys, putting his paws on my chest for a hug, and adding a few kisses for good measure. We have worked together long enough that this has become our ritual, and Paddington takes his responsibilities as host very seriously.

Billy and Griffin had always known that same sweet, affectionate dog. They also shared their lives with a young sporting dog who experienced the outside world at full volume. Paddington pulled hard on leash, became intensely focused on birds and critters, and had started barking and lunging when he encountered other dogs. His original consultation made the pattern clear: birds could capture his attention so completely that everything else seemed to disappear, and one encounter in Golden Gate Park ended with Paddington taking off after a bird while his person ran after him.

Over time, Billy and Griffin had adapted more of their lives around that intensity than they realized. They crossed streets to avoid encounters, got pulled down sidewalks, skipped parks, and sometimes left Paddington home when they went out. Some neighbors had started crossing the street when they saw him coming, and the barking and lunging could leave Billy and Griffin frustrated and embarrassed.

They wanted to help Paddington navigate other dogs more comfortably. First, though, we needed to understand what was happening long before another dog appeared.

Looking earlier changed the picture

Once I started working with Paddington in person, his dog reactivity became part of a much larger story. He spent much of his walks highly aroused, pulling toward the environment, searching for birds and critters, and finding it difficult to keep part of his attention connected to the person holding the leash.

I sometimes described Paddington as “living in the red.” We use a simple green, yellow, orange, and red framework to help people recognize changes in their dog’s arousal and understand what kind of support may be useful at each stage. With Paddington, waiting until he barked or lunged meant waiting until the end of a much longer sequence.

So our first several handler-coaching sessions focused heavily on Billy and Griffin. They learned to recognize Paddington’s transitions earlier and practiced different ways to engage him, help him remain regulated, and support him when his arousal started climbing. They also began noticing their own timing and the small moments when allowing one more pull or one more rush forward could help Paddington gather momentum toward a state that would become much harder to navigate.

That created some important lightbulb moments. Instead of asking only, “What do we do when Paddington reacts?” Billy and Griffin were learning to ask, “Where is Paddington right now, and what can we do while he still has choices?”

Giving Paddington more ways to succeed

Between coaching sessions, I started working directly with Paddington two or three times each week. We practiced impulse control, leash walking, and engagement through exercises like Red Light, Green Light, Leave It, helicopter turns, and treat-in-hand walking. Paddington also responded beautifully to touch when he needed help coming down from a spike in arousal.

Food was only one part of the toolkit. Paddington loved food play, personal play, and toy play, which gave us different ways to reconnect depending on what the moment called for. We also experimented with equipment, including a 26-foot Flexi attached to a back-clip harness, so this energetic sporting dog could get more movement and exploration on appropriate walks while protecting his neck and giving us a safe way to practice.

And sometimes we simply went to look at the birds.

Paddington is a hunting dog, and birds matter deeply to him. Instead of spending every walk competing with that interest, I started joining him. We creep toward the birds together, step by painfully slow step, while I whisper, “Go slow... go slow,” as though the professional hunting dog requires tactical guidance from the middle-aged man beside him.

I imagine we look like two burglars from an old cartoon.

Eventually I say, “Okay!” and we run toward the birds together. Paddington gets to share something he loves with me, and then we transition back into our walk. That exchange became another way to practice moving between excitement and connection without asking him to stop being Paddington.

Then the dogs became easier too

As all of those pieces began working together, Paddington’s leash behavior changed. He pulled less, checked in far more often, became better able to disengage from birds and other triggers, and developed much stronger engagement with whoever was walking him.

Something else changed at the same time. When Paddington encountered neighborhood dogs while he was already regulated and connected to his handler, his greetings often went very well.

That gave us valuable information about the behavior that originally brought Billy and Griffin to PupPossible. Paddington had social skills. Many of his difficult dog encounters happened after the walk itself had already pushed him beyond what he could comfortably process.

By supporting him earlier, we gave Paddington more capacity for whatever came around the next corner.

A bigger world for Paddington

Today, one of my favorite things to do with Paddington is take him somewhere complicated. We walk busy stretches of 24th Street in Noe Valley, practice settling in public, navigate crowded corridors, and work through the surprise dogs and people that inevitably appear when you live in San Francisco.

Some milestones have felt enormous precisely because they look so ordinary. Getting a sustained ten- or fifteen-minute settle at a busy brewery was one of them. Walking down 24th Street on a six-foot leash with Paddington focused on me while an entire neighborhood of dogs, people, food, smells, birds, and movement unfolded around us was another.

He even joined me at a busy arcade bar in the Castro. Paddington found the video-game screens extremely interesting, because apparently his list of hobbies needed one more entry, but he navigated the environment beautifully.

Billy and Griffin can now share much more of their lives with him too. Parks, beaches, restaurants and cafés, road trips, and hotels have all become more accessible. The dog who was increasingly staying home because taking him along felt difficult now has a much larger world to explore with his people.

The learning keeps traveling both directions

I still work with Paddington three days a week, and his education continues. So does Billy and Griffin’s. Each week I share videos, observations, articles, techniques, and little discoveries from my time with him so they can keep developing their own ability to read and support the dog we are all getting to know so well.

Sometimes they join one of our sessions, and I get to watch their skills become more fluid each time. They see Paddington earlier, understand what he is communicating, and have more choices for responding before he needs to shout.

Paddington still brings plenty of energy to the relationship. He still loves birds, critters, adventure, and apparently video games. Those glowing golden eyes are still scanning the world for whatever interesting thing might happen next.

Now Billy and Griffin have more ways to explore that world with him. And every time I arrive for another adventure, Paddington brings me a present, climbs up for his hug, and reminds me exactly why expanding that world together has been worth the work.