The dog-man confrontation took place years ago as bedtime approached one evening in the Dobson household. Dobson wanted his dog -- a dachshund named Sigmund Freud -- to get into his overnight enclosure in the family room. Siggie didn't want to go; he growled and bared his teeth at his master.
Dobson went for his belt.
"I had seen this defiant mood before," Dobson, a licensed psychologist, wrote in The Strong-Willed Child, "and knew there was only one way to deal with it. The only way to make Siggie obey is to threaten him with destruction. Nothing else works. I turned and went to my closet and got a small belt to help me 'reason' with Mr. Freud."
When Dobson gave Mr. Freud a firm swat across the rear end, the dog tried to bite the belt. "I hit him again and he tried to bite me . . . That tiny dog and I had the most vicious fight ever staged between man and beast. I fought him up one wall and down the other, with both of us scratching and clawing and growling and swinging the belt."
Finally Siggie backed himself into a corner and snarled at the belt-wielding child psychologist. It was to be the little dog's last stand. "I eventually got him to bed," Dobson writes, "but only because I outweighed him 200 to 12!"
The next night when Dobson ordered the family pet into his nighttime enclosure, Mr. Freud went "in perfect submission."
Two-hundred-pound man with belt wins. Twelve-pound dog loses.
And that is as it should be, according to Dobson's lights. For just as a dog will challenge authority, so too will a small child -- "only more so." Whenever a child resists authority, some physical pain -- a swat or lash with a switch or a belt -- is in order.