Why my dogs don’t care about my title

Sprout and Kale, our two Working Cockers, remind me of that every day. They don’t care about hierarchy, job titles, org charts or authority signals. They care about presence, consistency, tone, and whether you show up the same way today as you did yesterday.

This article explores why dogs are the most honest leadership mirror we have and why teams respond in exactly the same way. Trust isn’t built in big moments; it’s built in the ordinary ones. If your title disappeared tomorrow, would people still choose to follow you?

We have two Working Cocker Spaniels, Sprout and Kale. They don’t know my job title. They haven’t read my CV. They couldn't care less what's written on my email signature or how many people report to me.

What they know is this: am I calm or anxious? Do I mean what I say? Do I show up the same way every time, or only when it suits me?

That's it. That's their entire assessment of me, and honestly it's by far the the most direct performance review I've ever had or likely to have.

Titles don't lead. Behaviour does.

We spend a lot of time in organisations worrying about authority. Who has it. How to signal it. How to protect it.

But walk into a room with anxiety written across your face and uncertainty in every decision, and no job title in the world will make people feel safe following you.

Our dogs teach us this from day one.

If you come home stressed from a difficult meeting, distracted, tense and not really present, their usual enthusiastic greeting is tempered. They sit back, read the room, and watch you carefully until you’re settled.

They’re not being difficult or distant. They’re responding to what we’re actually bringing into that space.

Your team does exactly the same thing.

Trust is earned in the ordinary moments.

With a dog, trust isn't built through grand gestures. It's built through the walk you take every morning, every evening, or for the luckiest of dogs, both. The tone of voice you use.

Whether you follow through on what you signal, consistently, not occasionally.

Leadership is no different.

The big speech, the away day, the all hands announcement, the team meetings, these things matter, but they're not where trust lives. Trust lives in the corridor conversation. The way you respond when something goes wrong. The micro moments your team notices and catalogues, long before you're even aware they're watching.

Our dogs don’t care what we promise. They care what we do.

What are you actually communicating?

Here's a question worth sitting with:

If you removed your title from the equation entirely, no authority, no org chart, no formal power, would people still choose to follow you?

Not because they have to, but because of how you make them feel, because of the clarity you bring, because when things get uncertain, you're the person they look to for a signal that it's going to be okay.

That's what our dogs are looking for, and quietly, so is your team.

“It’s what you do. Not what you’re called.”