Confessions Of A Dog Trainer.

There are times when I question my ability.

You are walking your dog. It’s one of life’s simple pleasures. At least it is if your dog doesn’t drag you from here to hell and back.

Today, we had one such lovely walk. The late Autumn sun was shining, and we had a beautiful, relaxing stroll.

But it wasn’t always like this. At times, I have felt like giving up.

As a trainer, it has taken me over two years to get Twyla, my Springador, to walk comfortably with me. Two whole years. A LONG time.

She would pull, chase, jump, back out of harnesses, and pester other dogs. Forget about recall — She had none.

I used to come home and cry at times.

How was I working with dogs and succeeding when I couldn’t manage my own dog? It is embarrassing!

Once, a man stopped me and started giving me advice after Twyla ran over to meet his dogs and wouldn’t recall. I felt my PTSD symptoms kick in, and I stood still, obeying his commands. He told me to shut up, be quiet, and would not allow me to leash Twyla. It mortified me, and it took a lot for me to go out with her again for a while.

He wanted to help, but he probably would have let me handle the situation if I were a man. He was with his dogs, and I would have walked to him to put her leash back on. But he wouldn’t let me for some reason, and I went along with it.

Now, we can enjoy walks, and I no longer feel the despair.

Other dog trainers make it look so easy. I thought I was one of them until I had Twyla.

Now I know that it is not just training ability that counts, but also your dog’s personality.

With each dog I have known, and especially those I have lived with, I have learned something new.

Whenever I overcome my imposter syndrome and feel confident in my training, I become overconfident. Then, I learn valuable lessons from the next challenging dog I meet.

I always thought Moo, with all his struggles with health and behaviour, was my most prominent teacher. My learning curve. My reason for entering the world of dog behaviour.

He was anxious, aggressive and a very poorly boy. By the time we finished, he was performing tricks in the high street and paying a regular visit to my 100-year-old nan.

I thought I knew it all.

But then I met Twyla.

Now, she does not have an aggressive bone in her body. She is healthy. She is happy. She is confident. But My Gods she has been a LOT of dog.

None of my other dogs have been so hard to manage at home, teach, or walk.

My Moo didn’t even need a lead — we used one near traffic and cats as a courtesy, but he would happily trot along with me all over the place.

I had a false sense of security.

But Twyla has had other ideas since the day she was born.

On seeing us at a meet-up, her breeder called her husband over to say hi, yelling, “Look!! It’s RED PUPPY” (Twyla and her litter all had collars of different colours to distinguish them). He laughed. And he looked pityingly at me.

The breeder told me that the red puppy was the naughtiest they’d ever had. “If there was mischief, red was involved” she informed me.

This made me chuckle. And breathe a sigh of relief. Dogs don’t understand “naughty” or misbehaving, but we humans know what behaviour we don’t want them to do. And at least it was not just me who had found the little monkey a lot of dog at times. I felt validated.

At 12 weeks, Twyla had experienced four instances of being let down by prospective new dogparents. At that point, her breeder began wondering if anyone would want her.

She popped up on my Facebook timeline through a friend (who had put me in touch with Moo’s breeder, too). Within three days, she was in my living room. I was destined to have her as my dog.

I am so glad Twyla came to us and not to another family. I’m not sure if another family could handle the chaos that happened when we brought a lively working springer spaniel x labrador into our home. We watched as it was chewed, dug, climbed on, and covered in mud, with her permanently looking all crazy and excited.

Furniture was shredded, and the garden was destroyed. Moo gave up trying to grass her up and just went to the safety of his “house” (his open-door, covered crate) instead.

She is a very manic and highly strung girl. In the wrong hands, she could easily have become nervous or reactive. Even now, she finds it very hard to concentrate on anything, and her body is always three steps ahead of her brain.

We soon realised Twyla was extraordinarily hyperactive and couldn’t physically calm down alone.

Instead of overwhelming her with excessive exercise, which may seem logical but would actually transform her into a hyperactive athlete, we started teaching her more peaceful activities.

She used her nose to find her breakfast. She was doing enrichment throughout the day.

Before exploring new places, she would first relax in a crate or on a mat. This helps calm her down and prevents overexcitement.

We noticed that she became very hyperactive in the evenings, around 7 pm. We realised that this was because she was exhausted. So, we decided to add nap times to her day and establish a bedtime routine.

We knew junk food with additives wouldn’t help her, so we put her on a fresh, homemade diet like Moo’s. You can see her pupils dilate when she eats kibble, and her facial muscles tense up. She looks like a drug addict when she has eaten the wrong things. It is pretty worrying how additives can affect a dog.

For the most part, we managed to create a calmer and more well-adjusted dog.

But the struggle with walks remained. No matter what I did, whether treats, games, or methods, the walk was torture when she got too excited.

So, I decided to quit trying for a while. Instead, I decided to take her on car rides to places where she could run around without a leash. This way, there was no need to practice pulling.

I began doing something with her, on lead, called “Webwalking.” I also continued to let her run without a leash for exercise in safe places.

It began at my boyfriend’s house, where she has to go on lead to pee as it is by a 60mph road. Twyla walked on the same road many times daily, so it became boring. She pulled less on the leash as a result.

I had been teaching my clients this technique for a while. But, at home, Twyla was still too over-aroused for it to work quickly. The sheer number of cats living on our road was so very exciting to her. As were leaves blowing about.

But practising at my boyfriend’s place also helped her learn to apply it at home. So, we eventually started webwalking here as well.

We have built up slowly. Even though she still gets excited when we have company or when we first start down a new road (or thread to our web), our walks alone are mostly now delightful.

To help Twyla relax, we take calm walks, often at night, on peaceful paths. During these walks, we explore different things like benches, fences, grass verges and bushes. This helps Twyla focus more on me and slow down, allowing her to relax.

In the park, she’s the annoying dog who runs at any other dog right away on sight.

You know, the “friendly” one who scares dogs that want to be alone.

She must be on a leash or a long line to keep her safe.

If we rent a field, she can play with friends, run, jump, wrestle, and be worry-free. It is pure heaven as her friends are also quite big and bouncy.

When I try to walk her, she gets more excited. But if I help her body slow down, her brain follows too. As a bonus, she comes home tired and ready to sleep instead of wired and running around the ceiling.

Recently, she has finally been allowed to sleep on my bed at night. It is lovely to have a bed buddy again at long last. I haven’t trusted a dog enough to let them roam my room in years.

My room has some valuable things. Things from people and dogs who are crossed over, and I would be broken if they got chewed.

Twyla can open doors, so putting them away will not make them much safer.

But those things are not as valuable as waking up to a wiggling shuck, who is becoming the dog I always knew she could be.

They say that naughty puppies are the best adult dogs, and that is true.

So, the biggest lesson she has taught me? That patience is a virtue. And to not give up. Or doubt myself. At least not until the next Scrumperdinger comes along to shake up my cosy world.

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100 Day Challenge — Day 46.