Final Reflections from Leash Language: What Routine Walks Reveal About the Human-Dog Bond
This project began with a deceptively simple question: what does the leash reveal about
the human-dog relationship? Now, a year later, I find it has ultimately begun to chip away at
something much larger: what does it mean to be in sync with another species?
Across both the empirical and ethnographic work, the findings of this thesis offer a
grounded demonstration of the distinction between attachment and attunement. Deep affection,
commitment, and emotional investment can exist without coordinated understanding in movement, communication, or shared expectations. At the same time, attunement: the moment-
to-moment alignment of attention, behavior, and intention, emerges not just from love, but from
practice, clarity, and mutual adaptation. The numbers provide structure, pattern, and a way to
detect relationships that might otherwise go unseen. At the same time, the ethnographic cases
reveal that high attachment can coexist with markedly different expressions of coordination,
shaped by factors such as sensory access, training history, and environmental demands. This
convergence across methods reinforces the idea that attachment alone does not guarantee
synchronized interaction; rather, attunement emerges through repeated, context-sensitive
negotiation between partners.
And in terms of capturing this complex, busy, vibrant picture, I’ve learned that behavior
is not always separatable from context. On the leash, a pull is not always just a pull. Tension is
not inherently negative. Stillness is not necessarily harmony. Each measure, each coded
behavior, gains meaning only when understood within the relational, environmental, and
developmental context that produced it. The numbers mattered, but they were never sufficient to
tell the full story on their own. It was in bringing them into conversation with lived experience,
with stories, histories, and individual differences, that they began to speak more clearly. In that
sense, this project has reinforced a way of thinking that I hope to carry forward: that good
science, especially in the study of complex and real relationships, requires both precision and
humility. It requires asking not only what is happening, but why it might make sense that it is
happening this way.
This study has shown me that the leash is one of the places where synchrony between
human and dog becomes visible. It is a daily activity where the relationship is translated into
action, where intention meets interpretation, and where alignment, or misalignment, takes form.
In this way, leash-mediated behavior provides a uniquely visible model of dyadic synchrony, one
that reflects a more general principle of social interaction: that connection is not only something
felt, but something enacted, moment by moment, between individuals.
For me, this thesis feels like an accumulation of questions I have been asking, quietly and persistently, for years. Questions that surfaced while experiencing dogs in all different contexts: behavior modification and training, veterinary medicine, cognitive tasks in the lab, and while navigating my own relationships with animals. Program II gave me a rare opportunity in my undergraduate career to take those questions seriously. It gave me the space to pursue them, to shape them into something rigorous, and to trust that they were worth asking. More than that, it gave me confidence: confidence in my ability to contribute something meaningful, and confidence in my voice as someone working at the intersection of science, behavior, and lived experience. This program has not only supported my intellectual curiosity, but has deepened it, challenged it, and made it feel like a responsibility rather than just an interest.
Somewhere along the way, I also came to a realization that feels both obvious and
important to name: I feel most like myself when I am with animals- when I am watching them,
listening to them, caring for them, or trying to understand them. That sense of clarity has shaped
how I see this work. It does not feel abstract. It feels personal, and it feels purposeful. I believe,
in a very real sense, that I am meant to do this kind of work: to pay attention, to ask questions,
and to advocate for clearer, more compassionate ways of relating across species. This thesis feels like a first attempt at that. Not a final statement, but an opening.
If there is an impact I hope this work might have, it is a modest but meaningful one. If it
can help bridge, even slightly, the gap between two species trying to understand one another,
then it has done something worthwhile. If it can support a relationship, repair one, or
deepen one, then that is enough.
Ultimately, this project has left me with more questions than answers, but they are better
questions: more precise, more grounded, and more connected to the lives they seek to
understand. And that, I think, is exactly where I hoped to end up.

