19 Dub Awesome Dogs I Have Worked With: The One Who Won the ‚Loving Handler‘ Lottery

Doing any kind of work that requires you to interact with people is usually pretty demanding. Any wait staff, shop assistant, and, yes, even any dog trainer like me would tell you. Not everyone is nice. People tend to ask the same questions over and over again. They are inattentive readers, so even though you spell something out in an email or announcement, many people will still ask about what is written there. It’s simply part of the job; and if you can’t take it, don’t do the job.

What Makes a Trainer Tick?

Every once in a while, something happens though. For me, it occurs every couple of months or so. Someone sends you a text or an email, comes to your training session, or calls you—whatever it may be. And that someone tells you how much you have helped them. Or how much happier their dog is after starting training sessions with you. Or how they have overcome problems they have been struggling with for years.
 

Those things are what keeps us trainers going. I will happily answer the same basic question a million times when it means I get a moment like the one I want to tell you about today in return. 

Today’s story is about one such moment that has motivated me to keep pushing on and keep doing what I am doing no matter how difficult it sometimes is.

Joe the Oldtimer

I had a seminar the other weekend. It was at a place I regularly frequent every 1-2 months, and the attendees are also pretty regular there as well. This time, someone new came in: a man in his fifties, maybe even approaching sixty.

I always try to find out something about new clients if possible, so I asked about him beforehand. What I learned made me pretty wary. This man—let’s call him “Joe”—had a young dog whom he was working with the help of his friend.

Joe worked with dogs many years ago—like 20 to 30 years ago—and has been using the old methods. You know what I mean: “if the dog doesn’t do it after you hit him, hit him harder.” That kind of stuff. Regrettably, that type of “training” was very common in those decades, and any kind of positive reinforcement was very slowly beginning to gain popularity then by comparison.

Furthermore, I learned that Joe’s friend helping him work his dog was a big proponent of these old methods too. It’s amazing to me that people with this mindset still exist today: people who think that dogs have to work for no reward and that a good kick and a yank with the leash are the best training methods. Alas, Joe was working with one of those people.

Joe, who loves his dog

I always try not to judge my clients beforehand, but knowing this, I was concerned. I have had clients like this before, and it usually works out very badly. The ego of a man who is a generation older than me just can’t stand when I—a young “know-it-all,” in his eyes—tell him that everything, everything he is doing is wrong. They usually leave, never come back, and don’t change anything.

I was ready to do my best and try to persuade Joe of at least something, but then he actually talked to me when we were drinking coffee before the training. What he said made me hopeful:

“I never knew any other training methods, just the old ones. My friend is helping me, but I can see that my dog (we’ll call her “Jessie”) doesn’t enjoy the training sessions at all. I love Jessie. I want her to be happy, and I feel like it’s not working. When I found out about your seminar, I wanted to attend to learn something new.”

I pride myself on being able to assess a person pretty quickly, and I can usually tell when someone is not honest with me. This man—much older than me and a high-end proud professional in his line of work—was speaking so humbly, and I could see the love for his dog in his eyes. I instantly vowed to myself I would do everything in my power to make the training go well for Joe and Jessie.

Joe, who is willing to change for his dog

We worked together for two days at the seminar. Unfortunately, I had to tell him everything he was doing was wrong. That it was bad. Heeling was bad, positions, and even retrieve was terrible. It was all really bad.

He would show me something, and I would go on a ten-minute rant as to why it was wrong and how he would have to change everything from the ground up. I fell in love with Jessie, his dog. She is an absolute sweetheart, and she loves Joe even though he has been inadvertently unfair to her and was pushing her way too hard.

Throughout the weekend, I was afraid that Joe wouldn’t be able to take it, that he would snap. I was changing his whole world view on training dogs, and that is never easy.
But no. Joe was listening to every word. He tried his best. He stayed the whole day, even after most everyone left. He wanted to see me train with Archer. He then asked questions about my training, and we talked even longer into the night. The next day, he came in and stayed the whole day yet again.

Let me tell you about the strongest moment of the whole weekend that almost made me tear up. It was on Sunday; I think we were discussing the retrieve, which was really bad and needed to be totally reworked. Joe was sitting on the ground next to Jessie, who was snuggling up against him, and he was absentmindedly stroking her head while listening to me telling him how—yet again—he’d have to change everything.

I finished talking, and Joe sat in silence for a while, stroking Jessie’s head. Then he said, more to himself than to me: “I guess I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

Standing above him, watching him stroke his beloved dog, the only thing I could say was, “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

He sat in silence again, his eyes speaking volumes as he was stroking Jessie. “Is it possible to fix it?”

Jessie is a young dog. Not a puppy, but she was still young and so eager to learn. So, I said, “Yes. It is not going to be easy, but if you put in the work, you will turn this around. You will have a beautiful relationship and a nice obedience routine.”

Joe stood up, and his next words sounded like a vow. Like he was willing to move heaven and earth to fulfill his words: “Ok, I will do it. Let’s continue.”

I knew he was dead serious, and I looked at Jessie and I thought how lucky she was. Joe was one out of a hundred old-timers that was truly willing to change his ways for the dog he loves. I had to turn away for a moment and pretend something fell in my eye.

Then, I stayed there with Joe much longer than I was supposed to. I showed him Archer again. We talked late into the night. I got home so late that day that I had to postpone my regular livestream because of it.

But, yet again, I know my work has meaning in a situation like this. I know I have changed the whole world for one amazing man and his awesome, beloved dog. I can get up at dawn and stand in the freezing cold or pouring rain to make moments like this happen. I don’t care what it costs me on my end.

My hat is off to you, Joe. I hope when I am your age that I am just as willing to change for the better too.

Please, everyone, be like Joe: be mindful, and love your dogs.