Who Really Doesn’t Want to Go For A Walk – You Or Your Dog?

It’s raining. It’s cold, windy, and frankly, miserable outside.

You reach for your coat. Your dog hesitates at the door. They look up at you, eyes wide, almost pleading. The conclusion feels obvious: they don’t want to go.

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But is it actually them… or is it you?

Before we blame the weather, the puddles or your dog’s supposed hatred of rain, a little self-reflection goes a long way, and here’s the thing: sometimes we project our own reluctance onto our pets. And our dogs – expert readers of human emotion that they are – pick up on it and mirror it back.

For many pet parents, daily walks carry far more emotional weight than we realise. We know they’re important – for physical health, mental stimulation, and behavioural balance. We want to do right by our dogs. This isn’t about being a bad pet parent – most of us do this without realising it. And yet, there are days when pulling on a damp hoodie and stepping outside feels like a hard no. So the story softens.

She hates the rain anyway.
She’s too cold.
Look at his face – he clearly doesn’t want to go.

And back we retreat to the cosy sofa. But are we projecting our own discomfort onto our dog? Do dogs hate the rain? Or is my dog copying my mood? Let’s find out.

First: rule out the obvious

Before diving into the psychology, it’s worth checking whether your dog has legitimate physical reasons to avoid bad weather. Sometimes it really is about them, and dismissing genuine discomfort isn’t fair.

Physical factors matter

• Coat type: thin-coated dogs lose heat quickly in cold, wet weather.

• Size and body fat: smaller or leaner dogs feel the cold faster.

• Age: puppies and senior dogs regulate temperature less effectively, and damp conditions can worsen joint pain or stiffness.

Some breeds are genuinely ill-suited to certain weather conditions

• Thin-coated breeds such as Greyhounds, Whippets and Chihuahuas often find cold rain genuinely uncomfortable.

• Brachycephalic breeds (such as Pugs, Bulldogs, Frenchies) struggle in heat and humidity due to restricted airways. In these cases, reluctance isn’t behavioural; it’s protective physiology.

Sensory overwhelm

• Rain, for example, doesn’t just look different to dogs – it feels and sounds different. It can amplify noise, disrupt scent trails and feel uncomfortable on sensitive ears, faces and whiskers. For some dogs, this isn’t dislike but full sensory overload.

• If your dog shows signs of genuine distress – shaking, freezing in place, repeated refusal to move forward or physical discomfort – listen to those signals. A weatherproof coat, shorter route or indoor enrichment day might be the kinder choice.

But if your dog is physically capable and the reluctance feels… ambiguous? That’s where things get interesting.

The psychology of projection: when we blame the dog

Projection is a well-established psychological defence mechanism. It allows us to attribute our own uncomfortable feelings to someone else rather than confront them directly.

In the context of dog walking, it offers a convenient emotional shortcut:

If the dog doesn’t want to go, I don’t have to admit that I don’t either.

Psychotherapist and author Eloise Skinner explains that because our pets can’t verbally communicate their preferences, it’s easy to fill in the gaps ourselves. “It can be natural to extrapolate from our own feelings and perspectives to see what our pets might be thinking or feeling,” she explains. “As a result, we can start to mix our own instincts into our interpretation of their behaviour.” Anthropomorphising our pets, she notes, can become a way of voicing feelings we don’t feel comfortable taking ownership of or preferences we don’t want attributed directly to us.

This tendency is often shaped by identity. Many of us are understandably deeply invested in being “good” pet parents, and guilt can creep in when we feel we’re falling short. That pressure can shape the narratives we tell ourselves, sometimes pushing us to over-interpret our dog’s reluctance, and sometimes using it as justification.

As Eloise puts it, saying “my dog hates the rain” can excuse us from taking a daily walk, while still preserving our self-image as a caring, attentive pet parent.

These thoughts aren’t malicious. They’re protective.

Research published in Anthrozoös found that humans often misread dog emotions, often interpreting behaviour through their own human contextual and emotional lens rather than objective canine signals. In other words, when it’s raining and we feel reluctant, we’re far more likely to assume our dog feels the same.

The takeaway? Skipping a walk now and then isn’t a failure. Flexibility is part of real life. The issue arises when these justifications become habitual and the question is whether we’re aware enough to catch ourselves doing it.

The science of emotional contagion

Dogs don’t just observe us – they absorb us.

Behaviour consultant Katherine Brown explains that dogs are constant students of human behaviour.

“Our dogs are watching us all the time; they’re students of our behaviour. They will note the slightest changes in our bodies, facial expressions, and even our scent, and that information will influence their behaviour and choices.”

Walks (which are usually super fun and regular) are especially loaded with meaning. Dogs quickly learn the cues that signal one is coming – the shoes, the coat, the keys, the poo bags, the lead, often after just a few repetitions. If your dog is the type to leap off the sofa at the mere mention of walk or lead, this will make a lot of sense to you!

But it’s not only about routine. It’s about emotion.

If a human isn’t keen on going out, particularly in bad weather, that reluctance shows up in subtle ways: hesitation, slower movements, a flat tone. And the dog will notice. Katherine explains that this emotional shift can influence how a dog feels about the walk itself, especially in sensitive or closely bonded dogs.

A grumpy or rushed human may also give less clear cues, respond more sharply, or pull their dog away from smells and toileting routines. Over time, rain or cold can become a cue that predicts a tense or unpleasant outing, making a dog appear reluctant to go out in poor weather, even if the weather isn’t the real issue. 

Sometimes, the dog isn’t reacting to bad weather at all. They’re reacting to what the bad weather has come to mean. They’re extreme empaths with fur coats and an impeccable emotional radar.

Breaking the cycle (without guilt)

So how do you tell the difference between genuine canine distress and reflected human reluctance? Start with a simple check-in.

Before assuming the issue lies with your dog, pause and ask:

• Am I making excuses today?

• Would I feel differently if the weather were better?

• What do other caregivers notice about this behaviour?

Eloise suggests gently questioning whether we’re adding an extra layer of narrative and, when in doubt, seeking outside perspective or compromise.

Build better associations (for both of you)

• Opt for shorter walks in bad weather.

• Choose sheltered routes.

• Invest in proper wet-weather gear (yes, for humans too).

• Let dogs sniff and move at their own pace.

• Reward calmly, not anxiously.

Know when skipping is the kinder choice

True distress looks different from mild reluctance. Shaking, freezing in place, repeated avoidance, tucked tail, pinned ears or signs of physical pain (limping, stiffness) are signals to listen to – not push through.

On those days, indoor enrichment activities like sniff games, puzzle feeders or training sessions can meet your dog’s mental stimulation needs without the weather stress.

So… who really doesn’t want to walk?

Sometimes it’s your dog. Sometimes it’s you. Often, it’s a mix of both.

The goal isn’t perfection but something to be more aware of. When we understand how our emotions, guilt and identity shape our decisions, we can make better ones. Kinder ones. More honest ones.

And sometimes, that honesty sounds like: I don’t fancy this today, so let’s do something else that still meets both our needs. That, too, is good pet parenting.