Like I’ve said before, dogs can teach us a lot about behavior if we bother to pay attention.

My Australian Shepherd, Freddie, is very high strung. He’s what’s known in training circles as a “reactive” dog. This means he barks at pretty much everything– bad guys on TV, garbage cans, the vacuum cleaner, motor cycles, Dr. Hambright (his vet), German Shepherds. These are just some of the many things that frighten him. We know this because, according to animal behaviorists, dogs barking out of fear sound and look different from dogs barking out of excitement or joy.

Freddie goes into a vocal frenzy whenever new people enter the house. He comes from a long line of sheep dogs, and it’s an occupational plus for his breed to be suspicious of interlopers. But Freddie takes the job of protecting his flock a little too seriously.

I’ve worked hard to get him to associate visitors with good things, like marrow bones and juicy steak tidbits. And, in much the same way I teach my human patients to face their fears gradually, I try not to put him in situations that would be too much for him to handle, keeping his fear level at around a 5 on a scale of 1 to 10. But sometimes I forget to follow my own expert advice.

Last week my son’s college roommate, Bryan, was staying with us for a few days before the guys drove back to school. Whenever Bryan entered or left a room, Freddie barked at him. I usually hold Freddie on a short leash if strangers are in the house so I can control the distance between him and them until he gets more comfortable—“habituates,” in behavior therapy parlance.

For some reason, though, this time I got lax. Maybe I was hoping he’d suddenly act like our late Golden Retriever, Calvin— a dog who gladly would befriend any person who extended a hand for him to lick. I let Freddie get close enough to Bryan for a head pat. Bad idea. Freddie let us know loud and clear, with snarling and baring of teeth, that we’d gone too far. This was maybe an 8 or 9 for him, and it was too much.

Lesson learned. Two lessons, actually: 1) Freddie is his own dog, and I need to accept him as he is, and 2) Slow and steady works best when doing exposure therapy.

By the time the loaded car pulled out of the driveway, Freddie had worked up the courage to nuzzle Bryan and lick his hand. Not like Calvin, exactly, but good enough for me.