Kindness is not always what it seems: Rethinking how we teach kids about animals

I believe in humane education — in its power to shape how kids think about animals, kindness, and responsibility. But over time, as a pet trainer, I’ve started to see the gap between what we’re teaching and what animals actually need.

Imagine a classroom of third graders, watching intently a picture book illustration of a dog sitting behind a gate. “How do you think this dog feels?” I asked. “Sad!” they called out. “He needs a hug!” said another. It was a kind response. An alarm rings in my trainer’s ears. The illustration depicts a dog sitting, mouth closed with big wide eyes but the kids did not see that, all focus was on that “horrible” gate.

The issue isn’t that the children were wrong. It’s that we’ve taught them to interpret animal emotions through a human lens. We show them illustrations of dogs with eyebrows knitted into worry or big smiles that stretch across muzzles, and we say: This is what sadness looks like. This is what joy looks like. But dogs don’t have expressive eyebrows. A wagging tail doesn’t always mean happiness. And sometimes, a quiet, still dog is not calm — but frozen in fear.

We could to do better. Traditional humane education is about kindness, empathy, and compassion and we want all of it. But we can do more. It may take time for accurate illustrations to catch up — artists and authors aren't behaviorists, and expecting every book to depict precise dog body language is a tall ask. In the meantime, we can work with what we have. By pairing deep, thoughtful reflections with even a short mini-lesson on canine body language, we can help children shift from simply identifying a “happy” or “sad” dog to truly understanding what a dog is communicating. Just as we teach kids to look both ways before crossing the street, we can teach them to notice ears pinned back, a tight mouth, or a tucked tail — small details that can help them pause and give animals space when needed. That’s not subtracting from humane education. That’s making it even more humane.

Buddy Unchained -Buddy is happy living in his new home (first 2 illustrations) but he was previously neglected and abused and showed sadness in the latter 2 illustrations. The drawings do not accurately depict real life dog body language.

Some may argue that this is the job of bite prevention education, not storytelling. But humane education already includes open-ended questions like “How do you think the animal feels?” or “What do you think is happening in this picture?” — tools meant to build empathy. These are valuable, but maybe they’re not enough. If we want children to really listen to real animals, and not see them as cartoons or characters but as beings with their own agency, we need to expand the conversation.

The truth is, many of the dogs that bite children were giving clear signals — but they were missed, or misinterpreted. And while a book can’t replace supervision or training, it can lay the groundwork. It can help a child begin to understand that kindness sometimes means giving a dog space. That real empathy might mean resisting the urge to hug a “sad” dog and instead recognizing that the dog might not want to be touched at all.

I’ve seen countless videos online of well-meaning parents encouraging their children to snuggle close to dogs who clearly want to get away. The dog is tolerating, but not consenting. It’s not that these families are unkind — they simply don’t know what they’re looking at. And if the storybooks reinforce the idea that a tucked tail is “shyness” or a low growl means “grumpy,” we’re not helping them learn. We’re leaving them vulnerable. And we’re failing the dogs.

I believe in the power of storytelling. But I think we need to write new stories — or at least tell the old ones more carefully. With pictures that show relaxed ears and curved bodies as signs of comfort, and stiff posture or “whale eye” as cues to back off. With conversations that go beyond “How would you feel?” and ask, “What is the dog trying to say?” This shift doesn’t undermine humane education. It deepens it.

Because kindness isn’t just a feeling. It’s an action. And sometimes, the kindest thing we can do for a dog is to let it walk away.