I often hear people recoil at the idea that children and pets should have a degree of “fear” when it comes to their primary caregiver. "They should love you unconditionally!" they cry. "Fear is abusive!" But I’m here to tell you that this perspective often fundamentally misunderstands what that "fear" truly entails, and why it's absolutely crucial for establishing respect and, ultimately, a healthier, safer dynamic.
Let me clarify immediately: I am not advocating for cruelty, physical intimidation or creating an environment of terror. When I say your pets should be "scared" of you, I'm talking about a healthy, instinctive understanding of consequences and hierarchy, a recognition of your position as the ultimate authority. It’s not about being a monster; it’s about being the clear, consistent leader.
Think back to your own childhood. Were you ever truly terrified of your parents? Probably not in a debilitating, abusive sense. But were you, at times, scared of their disappointment? Scared of the repercussions if you broke a rule? Scared of their stern gaze when you pushed boundaries too far? I certainly was.
And that "fear" – that understanding of cause and effect, that recognition of their authority – didn't diminish my love for them. In fact, it solidified my respect. It taught me boundaries, discipline and the importance of listening to those with more experience and wisdom. It meant I knew who was in charge and that knowledge kept me from running wild and making genuinely dangerous choices.
Now, look at parenting today. There's a pervasive movement towards parents wanting to be "friends" with their kids. (Although, at a fast-food restaurant today I saw the all-too common mom-staring-down-at-her-phone-while-ignoring-her-attention-starved-kids style of parenting again.) They want to be on equal footing, to negotiate everything, to avoid any semblance of "negative" emotions like fear or disapproval.
And what do we often see as a result? Children who lack respect for authority, who struggle with self-discipline, who feel entitled and who often run roughshod over their parents’ wishes. When you're "friends," you're peers, and peers don't generally command the kind of unwavering respect and obedience necessary for a healthy adult-child dynamic. There’s no authority because you’re essentially peers.
The exact same principle applies to relationships with pets. I see it every single day. People walking their dogs, and the dog is pulling them down the street, darting from left to right on a 20-foot retractable leash, ignoring every command. Or a "loving" owner whose cat shreds furniture with impunity or whose dog jumps on every guest. Who is in control on that walk? Who is setting the rules in that home? Not the human. And this is precisely why pets – just like kids – don't respect who should be the authority.
When a dog pulls you down the street, it’s not just a nuisance; it’s a clear message: "I'm in charge here. I lead, you follow." When a cat constantly ignores your commands, it’s not just being "independent"; it's asserting its dominance in a way that undermines your position. They don't respect your leadership because you haven't established it. And you establish it by consistently demonstrating that you are the one who dictates terms, that you control the resources and that you enforce the boundaries.
For an animal, understanding hierarchy is hardwired. In a pack, there's always an alpha, a leader. And that alpha maintains their position not through outright terror (which leads to rebellion or flight), but through clear, consistent communication of their power and unwavering enforcement of rules. Disobeying the alpha has immediate, undesirable consequences. That understanding of consequences is what I mean by "fear." It's the knowledge that if they do X, an unpleasant Y will occur – perhaps a sharp leash correction, the toy being put away, or the immediate end of a fun activity. This isn’t abuse; it’s how animals learn. It’s how they respect the one who sets the rules and provides safety.
When your pet understands that you are the consistent, fair but unequivocally firm leader, they relax. They don't have to worry about making decisions because you're making them. They feel safe because they trust you to guide them. And that trust is built on a foundation of respect – a respect that stems from knowing you are in charge, capable of enforcing rules and, ultimately, ensuring their well-being.
So, the next time you hear someone say a pet should be "scared" of their owner, reconsider your immediate aversion. Perhaps they’re not talking about cruelty but about cultivating a healthy respect for authority. Because in both the animal kingdom and the human family, true respect isn't born from being a peer; it's built on a clear understanding of hierarchy, boundaries and the predictable consequences that follow their violation.
That, in my experience, leads to more harmonious homes, better-behaved companions and ultimately, deeper, more secure relationships.