The Illusion of Socialization
- Feb 15
- 3 min read
Passing Another Dog Is Not a Relationship
In cities, dogs are surrounded by other dogs almost constantly — on sidewalks, in housing estates, near shop entrances, on the way to the park. That is why it is so easy to assume that a dog is “well socialized.” They see dogs, pass dogs, sometimes stop, sniff, and move on.
But that is exactly where the trap lies: frequent encounters may mean frequent stimulation, not real social life. These passing meetings are common, but they are brief, interrupted, and usually lack continuity. They do not build relationships. They do not offer predictability. They are closer to rushing past dozens of people on your way to the subway and calling that your social life.
The result can be surprisingly paradoxical: a dog is constantly “around other dogs,” yet socially undernourished. Plenty of contact, but very little depth.
The Leash, the Narrow Sidewalk, and the Rush
The classic image of urban “socialization” is two dogs on leash facing each other on a narrow sidewalk. But this is not a neutral kind of meeting. It is a format that, by definition, makes it harder for dogs to do what matters most in social interactions: regulate distance.
Dogs communicate through movement. In a natural encounter, they can approach in an arc, slow down, pause, move away, circle back. They can also opt out before things get too close. In the city, they often cannot — because the space is tight, and the leash narrows their options even further.
Then there is the pace. The interaction lasts only as long as the logistics of the walk allow. Sometimes just a few seconds. In that time, the dog is expected to gather information, assess the other dog, and decide how to respond. That is a lot to ask. Not because the dog “doesn’t know how to behave,” but because the situation is demanding and the margin for error is small.
In this setup, the guardian’s tension matters too — not as blame, but as part of the scene. The space is narrow, someone is approaching, the other dog barked here before, the person is in a hurry. The dog does not need to read minds. A shift in rhythm, a tighter hand, a slight tension in the leash is enough.
Two Histories Meet in One Place
There is another piece that often gets missed. In the city, it is not just “two dogs in a vacuum” meeting. It is two histories meeting — often in the same kinds of places: by a gate, between parked cars, under an apartment block, on the same narrow stretch of sidewalk.
There are many dogs, and many of them are carrying the strain of similar pressures: cramped spaces, lack of choice, repeated close encounters in the same locations. If a dog has had several unpleasant experiences in one particular passageway, that place starts to matter. If the other dog is carrying their own history too, tension can rise very quickly — even if neither dog is “starting with bad intentions.”
This explains another common paradox: a dog who can be calm and socially competent in other contexts may look, on the street, as if they “hate other dogs.” But often it is not really about dogs as such. It is about the format of the encounter: close, fast, head-on, with no easy way out.
In those conditions, “I don’t want this” may be a perfectly sensible attempt to avoid a situation that feels too tight and too fast. And that is where two different things often get confused: not needing relationships with unfamiliar dogs, and avoiding interactions that are unpleasant and of little social value.
A dog does not need to befriend everyone. That is normal. But that does not mean they should be isolated, or that every encounter should be treated as a disaster waiting to happen. Some dogs simply need an environment where meetings are not a constant test. Others need a few stable canine relationships — the kind that offer predictability, familiarity, and calm.
Grynkiewicz, A., Reinholz, A., & Imbir, K. (2026). Disconnected Lives: Social Networks and Emotional Regulation in Domestic Dogs. Animals, 16(3), 398.
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