How to Train a Shih Tzu — The Little Lion Who Never Forgot Who He Is

It happens every week. Someone sits across from me at a cafe in Tel Aviv, Shih Tzu on their lap, and says: "He's cute. But he doesn't listen. He knows what I want, he just chooses to ignore me."

I look at the dog. He looks back at me. Big, dark, clever eyes. And he really does know. He's not stupid. He just doesn't see a good reason to cooperate.

That's the first thing you need to understand about the Shih Tzu. He thinks. He decides. He doesn't work for anyone for free.

And this isn't a bug. It's a feature. A trait that was built into him over more than a thousand years. Not because he's stubborn. Because he was born for one job only: to be your friend.

Not to herd. Not to guard. Not to chase. Not to retrieve. Simply to be with you.

And that job — it isn't a job at all. It's a bond.

Interestingly, the name "Shih Tzu" in Chinese means "lion." Not because the dog looks like a lion. Because Chinese artists painted lions the way they imagined them — small, with long fur, flat faces. Who knows, maybe the lions in ancient Chinese paintings looked that way precisely because of these little dogs.

In 1930s England, they called it the "Chrysanthemum Dog," because its fur spreads in every direction like a flower. Later, it was sometimes called the "Tibetan Lion Dog." Is it Tibetan or Chinese? That's a politically charged question, and dog historians still argue about it. What's certain: the Shih Tzu came from the mountain region between Tibet and China, and both Tibetans and Chinese had a hand in it.

A Thousand Years in Palaces

The Shih Tzu wasn't born in a pet store. It was born in Tibetan monasteries.

Buddhist monks in the mountains of Tibet, as early as the 7th century CE, bred small dogs that looked like lions. Not by accident. The lion is a sacred animal in Buddhism. It symbolizes power, courage, royalty. "Fear nothing, and act without delay."

But there were no lions in Tibet. So the monks created them. In the form of a dog.

These dogs weren't ordinary pets. They were considered holy companions. It was believed they carried the souls of monks who hadn't yet reached enlightenment. Some were given as gifts to Chinese emperors — a spiritual offering, a symbol of faith passing from Tibet to China.

And so the little dog arrived at the palace.

During the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), these dogs became the favorites of the imperial court. For years, the Chinese refused to sell, trade, or give them to anyone outside the palace. They were the emperor's property, and the emperor's alone.

The history of the Shih Tzu is closely tied to the palace eunuchs. Men who were castrated so they could serve close to the emperor, without fear they would betray him for the sake of their own dynasty. The eunuchs looked for ways to get closer to the emperor, and found one in the form of small dogs. The more beautiful, the more special, the more lion-like the dog — the greater the chance the eunuch would be promoted. Artificial selection wasn't done by professional breeders. It was done by desperate men.

In the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912), the breed's most famous caretaker arrived. Empress Dowager Cixi, who effectively ruled China for nearly five decades, developed a systematic breeding program within the Forbidden City. She maintained separate breed lines — Pekingese, Shih Tzu, Pug — and bred them to strict standards. Dogs were sorted by color, size, head shape. Only the best survived her program.

Outside the palace, these dogs barely existed. Hard to imagine today. An entire breed living in one palace, separated from the world, bred by eunuchs and an empress, existing only because of the decisions of a handful of people.

Then came 1949. The Communist Revolution. The Shih Tzu was a symbol of wealth, of status, of the fallen empire. Every Shih Tzu in China was destroyed. Every single one.

What remained — 13 dogs that had been brought to England and Scandinavia between 1928 and 1952.

Thirteen dogs. From them came every Shih Tzu living in the world today.

What Remains in the DNA

After a thousand years in palaces, and after near-total extinction, something deep remains.

The Shih Tzu wasn't born to obey. He was born to be. Simply to be.

He was raised by humans who were happy just from his presence. He didn't need to do anything for food. The food came. He didn't need to work for love. Love was given freely.

This makes him one of the most social dogs there is. He's not fearful. He's not aggressive. He approaches strangers with curiosity, not suspicion. He gets along with other dogs, with cats, with children. He's suitable for a small apartment, a calm schedule, people who want a dog that sits on the couch and doesn't chase bicycles.

But this is also what makes him a training challenge.

Because why? Why should he sit when you say "sit"? You already love him. The food will come anyway. What does he gain?

This isn't stubbornness. It's lack of motivation. The difference is enormous.

A dog born to work — a Border Collie, German Shepherd, Labrador — has an internal drive to cooperate. The work itself is the reward. The owner's "good boy" releases dopamine.

In a Shih Tzu, dopamine releases when you scratch his belly.

So you can't train a Shih Tzu the way you train a Malinois. The same techniques won't work. Not because they're bad. Because your dog doesn't see a reason to participate.

How to Train a Little Lion

What works? Three things.

One: Pay the price.

The Shih Tzu learns fast. He's smart. Stanley Coren ranked him 70th on the intelligence list — 80-100 repetitions to learn a new command. That's not low. That's average. But the number is misleading, because it measures obedience, not intelligence.

The Shih Tzu understands the command after 5 repetitions. The problem is he decides to perform it after 95.

So don't repeat the command over and over. It won't help. Instead, make performing it worthwhile.

The best food you can give. Not an ordinary treat. Cheese. Liver. Chicken. Something no dog can refuse. Then, when you say "sit" and he sits — not because he obeys, but because the cheese is worth the effort — you're winning.

Two: Short. Really short.

The Shih Tzu has limited focus in formal training. Not because he's stupid. Because he's bored. He doesn't see training as work. He sees it as an interruption between the couch and the food bowl.

Five-minute sessions, twice a day. No more. When you feel him losing interest — stop. Always stop before he wants to stop. That way he'll want to come back.

Three: No pressure.

The Shih Tzu is a sensitive dog. Maybe the most sensitive I know. When he feels pressure — anger, force, shouting — he doesn't respond with submission. He responds with disconnection.

He won't learn anything under pressure. He'll just wait for it to pass. Then he'll remember that training is unpleasant, and he'll want to cooperate even less next time.

Positive reinforcement isn't an ideology here. It's the only practice that works. Call it positive, call it LIMA, call it whatever you want. The principle is the same: make him want to. Don't force him.

Adolescence — a surprise along the way. Around 5-12 months, the Shih Tzu who was "cute and cooperative" suddenly starts acting like he forgot everything he learned. He didn't forget. His brain is going through a normal neurological change. This happens in every breed, but with the Shih Tzu it feels like he consciously decided to stop cooperating.

Don't panic. Don't get angry. Don't put him back on a short leash in basic training as if he were a puppy. Shorten the sessions. Raise the value of rewards. Switch to a variable schedule — not rewarding every success, but unpredictably. In the field I see: variable schedules produce more durable behavior. And with a Shih Tzu, durability is exactly what you need.

Why the mat matters. One of the most useful things you can teach a Shih Tzu is to relax on a mat. Not a dynamic command. Not "come" or "sit." Just relax. In a fixed spot. Quietly.

It works because it doesn't demand obedience. It demands choice. He chooses to be on the mat because good things happen there. Treats fall from the sky when his head is on the mat. Slowly, the mat becomes a place of calm. When he's stressed, when there are guests, when visitors come — he'll go there on his own. Not because you told him. Because he learned it's worth it.

The Comparison That Illuminates the Difference

Put a Shih Tzu next to a Labrador.

The Labrador runs to fetch a ball. He runs back. He drops the ball at your feet. He looks at you with eyes that say, "You threw it? Are you throwing it? I'm ready."

The Shih Tzu looks at the ball. He walks to it. Slowly. He sniffs it. He decides it's not interesting. He goes to sit on the rug.

It's not that the Shih Tzu can't fetch. He can. He just doesn't see a reason. Why? What's in it for me?

For the Labrador, fetching is the reward. The adrenaline of the chase, the satisfaction of the return, the work with the owner.

For the Shih Tzu, fetching is work. And he doesn't work for anyone.

So the difference isn't intelligence. The difference is biddability — the willingness to work for a human. A Labrador is born with high biddability. A Shih Tzu is born with low-to-moderate biddability.

Both are smart. Both can learn. But one wants to work with you. The other needs a good reason.

And that's okay. It doesn't make the Shih Tzu less. It makes him different. The problem is when you try to train him like a Labrador. Then both of you get frustrated.

House Training — The Real Challenge

If there's one thing Shih Tzu owners talk about most, it's house training.

This isn't a coincidence. The Shih Tzu is one of the slowest breeds to learn where to eliminate. Four to six months of full consistency — that's the average. Some take longer.

The reason is twofold. First, the bladder is small. It's a small breed. And he's slower in developing sphincter control. Second, that same stubbornness. Or let's say — lack of motivation.

A Shih Tzu puppy doesn't see a compelling reason to pee outside when there's a nice warm carpet inside. He won't understand why you're angry. Don't shout. Don't scold. It will only make him afraid of you, and the pee will still be on the carpet — now just in a place you can't see.

What works? A strict schedule. Going out every two hours. Over-the-top reinforcement when he goes outside. The best treat you have. No reaction for mistakes. Success gets a party.

It takes time. But in the end — every Shih Tzu learns. Just slower.

What This Means in Real Life

Let's talk about real life with a Shih Tzu.

Barking. He was born to be the palace watchdog. The little bell of the imperial court. He'll bark when someone approaches the door. He'll bark when the phone rings. He'll bark when he hears a strange noise. It's in the DNA.

What to do? Don't shout "quiet." That doesn't work. Teach him "speak" — and then "enough." Let him make one sound, then reward silence. It takes time. It works.

Walking. The Shih Tzu doesn't pull like a Husky. He doesn't chase bicycles like a Terrier. But he can decide he's going left when you're going right. Not out of rebellion. Out of self-assessment.

A harness, not a collar. Those flat faces can't handle pressure on the neck.

Heat. He's brachycephalic. Flat-faced. Short breath. He can't run in summer like other dogs. Walks in the morning or evening. Not at noon. Not on hot pavement. Watch for signs of distress — heavy breathing, purple tongue, reluctance to move.

Grooming. The long double coat is daily work. If you don't brush every day — mats form that reach the skin. Painful. Causes inflammation. Most owners choose a short cut, a "puppy cut." More practical, but still requires regular grooming.

Being alone. He was bred to be with you. All day. Prolonged absence isn't natural to him. The Shih Tzu can develop separation anxiety relatively easily. Not because he's weak. Because thousands of years in the palace taught him that a human is always there. When there isn't — his world falls apart.

How to prevent it: Accustom him to short absences from the start. Leave for five minutes. Come back. Reward quietly. Gradually extend. Never make a big celebration when you return — that teaches him that absence is a dramatic event. Quiet entry, a hug, continue the normal day.

Frequently Asked Questions

"Why doesn't my Shih Tzu listen?"

He listens. He chooses not to respond. Don't take it personally. He's not doing it to annoy you. He's doing it because he doesn't see a reason. Ask yourself: what does he get if he responds? If the answer is "nothing" — there's no reason. Make the reward worth it.

"Is the Shih Tzu smart?"

Very. But he doesn't obey without a reason. There's a difference between intelligence and obedience. The Shih Tzu ranks 70th on Stanley Coren's intelligence list — but that test measures obedience, not intelligence. The Shih Tzu learns commands fast. He just decides whether to perform them.

"Why does house training take so long?"

Three reasons: small bladder, slow sphincter control, and lack of motivation. A combination of physiology and personality. Consistent schedule, immediate reinforcement, patience. Plan for 4-6 months. After that, he'll be fine.

"What's the best training food?"

Cheese. Cooked chicken. Dried liver. Something you would stop what you're doing for. Regular treats are nice, but the Shih Tzu needs a really good reason. Invest in the food. It pays off.

"Is the Shih Tzu good with children?"

Yes. He's one of the most patient small breeds with children. He doesn't bite easily. He's tolerant. He loves being part of family activity. But — he's small. Children need to learn to pick him up correctly, not drop him, not pull his fur. As with any breed, adult supervision is mandatory.

"Can the Shih Tzu be left alone?"

Yes, but he needs to learn it. He wasn't born to be alone. He was born to be with you. Start with very short absences — five minutes. Come back before he gets stressed. Gradually extend. A crate can help — but only if he experiences it as a safe place, not a prison. Never crate him as punishment.

Sources

The information in this article is based on 25 years of field experience, and on peer-reviewed academic sources:

• PMID 24972077 — Study on reactivity to stimuli and aggression in 17 breeds (including Shih Tzu). Showed a significant association between reactivity to stimuli and aggression. PLoS ONE, 2014.
• PMID 34368281 — GWAS study on neurological genes associated with dog behavior, temperament and trainability. Genes, 2021.
• Wikipedia — Detailed breed history, Tibetan origins, Ming Dynasty, Empress Cixi, and the 13-dog bottleneck.

The End — And What Remains

The Shih Tzu is one of the few dogs in the world bred for one job only: to be your friend.

Not to herd sheep. Not to guard the house. Not to find the missing. Not to detect explosives. Simply to sit next to you, look at you with those big, dark eyes, and be present.

That job — it isn't a job. It's presence. And when you understand this, you stop trying to train him like a working dog, and start training him for what he really is: a little lion, who knows he's king, and decides whether today he feels like cooperating.

The trick isn't to make him obedient. The trick is to make cooperation worthwhile. And if you do it right — he will be the most loyal, the most loving, the most amusing dog you've ever had.

Because the moment he decides you're worth the effort — he gives you everything.

Just like a real lion would.