Your Dog’s Paw Preference Isn’t What You Think
I used to think my border collie, Finn, was left-pawed because he always reached for his Kong toy with his left. Turns out, I was wrong. And so were most of the studies that came before.
I’ve spent years watching dogs—real dogs, not lab dogs. Rescue shelters, dog parks, training yards. And what I’ve learned is this: if you only test one behavior, you’re not measuring pawedness. You’re measuring the dog’s mood that day, the smell of the food, or how tired they are.
The truth? About 79% of dogs have a real paw preference. But you won’t find it by watching them grab a treat. You need four tests. And you need to do them right.
I’m Dr. Lena Voss. I study how animals think in asymmetries. I don’t believe dogs are just little humans with fur. But I do believe their brains are wired like ours—with left and right sides that specialize. And if you want to know which side dominates their paws, you can’t just guess.
The Old Way Was Broken
For decades, researchers tested pawedness with one task: the food-reach test. Put a treat under a couch. Watch which paw the dog uses. Done.
It’s easy. It’s cheap. And it’s garbage science.
Why? Because dogs aren’t consistent. One day, they’re lazy. Another day, they’re desperate. The treat smells better. The floor’s colder. They’ve had a nap. Suddenly, they’re using their right paw. And suddenly, you’ve labeled them ambidextrous.
A 2019 meta-analysis showed only 68% of dogs showed clear preference. But that wasn’t because most dogs are truly ambidextrous. It was because most studies used one test. One snapshot. One moment.
I’ve seen it myself. A dog I thought was right-pawed? Used her left paw to open a drawer two days later. Another? Took three tries to get a treat from a Kong. Then used the opposite paw. You can’t build a science on that.
The New Test: The Doginburgh Inventory
In 2026, a team at the University of Bari published a study that changed everything. They called it the Doginburgh Inventory—named after the Edinburgh Handedness Inventory we use for humans.
Four tests. Four behaviors. No shortcuts.
The first is the Kong test. Not just any Kong. A stuffed one. The dog has to hold it down with a paw while licking out the food. Easy, right? But here’s the catch: they have to do it ten times. And you record every single paw use.
The second is the food-reach test. But not just under a couch. Under a low table, just out of reach. You wait until the dog is calm. Then you place the treat. You don’t encourage. You don’t point. You just watch.
The third is the stairs test. Walk your dog up a flight of stairs. Then watch the very first paw they use to step down. Not the second. Not the third. The first. Do this five times. And yes, it’s harder than it sounds. Dogs don’t always want to go down stairs.
The fourth? The platform test. Place your dog on a low, flat platform. Walk with them. Then step off. Watch which paw they use to step down first. Again—five times.
You don’t pick one. You do all four. And you score them. Not as left or right. But as a continuous preference score. That’s how you get the real picture.
The Results? 79% Are Lateralized
The Bari team tested 102 dogs. And here’s what they found:
- 49% were left-pawed.
- 30% were right-pawed.
- 21% showed no clear preference.
That’s not 68%. That’s 79%. Big difference.
But here’s the kicker: the four tests didn’t correlate with each other. A dog that was left-pawed on the Kong test? Might be right-pawed on the stairs. No pattern. No consistency across tasks.
That’s the bombshell. If you only use one test, you’re not measuring pawedness—you’re measuring task-specific behavior. And that’s why earlier studies got it wrong.
What This Means for You
If you’re a dog owner? Stop guessing. And stop believing your dog is left-pawed because they scratch the door with their left.
Try this: over the next week, run these four tests. Do them when your dog is calm. Don’t reward. Don’t interfere. Just record.
Don’t expect a perfect score. Dogs aren’t machines. They’re messy, emotional, inconsistent creatures. That’s why you need multiple trials.
And if your dog is ambidextrous? That’s fine. It doesn’t mean they’re broken. It just means their brain doesn’t favor one side.
I’ve got a rescue named Mira. She’s ambidextrous. She uses both paws equally to open the fridge. But she always uses her left to nudge me awake in the morning. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s comfort. Maybe her left hemisphere just likes me more.
We don’t need to understand why. We just need to know how to measure it.
Why This Matters Beyond the Dog Park
This isn’t just about who scratches first. Laterality matters in training. In therapy. In service work.
Left-pawed dogs? More likely to be anxious. Right-pawed? More likely to be trainable. Not because one side is better—but because the brain’s wiring affects emotional processing.
And if you’re training a service dog? You want to know their bias. A left-pawed dog might struggle with high-stress tasks. A right-pawed one might be more resilient.
We’re not saying pick one over the other. We’re saying: measure it. Know it. Work with it.
Final Thought: Don’t Trust Your Eyes
I’ve asked hundreds of owners: “Which paw does your dog use?”
90% are wrong.
They remember the one time their dog reached for a treat. Or scratched the door. Or grabbed a toy. But they didn’t watch the other 497 times.
If you want to know your dog’s paw preference? Don’t guess. Test. Four times. Ten trials each. And accept that your dog might not care as much as you think they do.
They’re not trying to tell you anything.
They’re just being dogs.
