04/28/2026
He's earned it.
That's Shep. 11 months old, dead asleep in a sunbeam.
We just got home from a weekend of herding demos in front of thousands of people. Shep came with us. It was his first time in the limelight, and I wasn't sure I was going to take him right up until I loaded him in the truck.
He handled it all. The travel, the lights, the crowds, the PA system, the grandstands, the whole circus. Handled it like a seasoned pro.
I cut him from the demos on day two.
He started barking while crated, waiting his turn. Not scared barking. Frustrated barking. He wanted in. He just couldn't hold himself together quietly, and I couldn't get to him to help him through it in the moment. So I pulled him.
Because everything is a training opportunity. And right then, he was practicing something I didn't want him practicing for the rest of the weekend.
People hear I'm a professional trainer and assume my dogs are perfect. They're not. Not even close. I'm not afraid to admit when a dog isn't prepared for something. I take it in stride, note the gap, and add it to the training plan. You simply can't train for every eventuality ahead of time. But the more you put your dogs out there, the fewer surprises there are.
The important thing is that I didn't make it a big deal. So neither did he.
Shep didn't leave that arena thinking he'd failed. He left thinking he'd gone on a grand adventure. Which he had.
Next year, he'll know how to sit quietly too.
Making a dog isn't one thing. It's a hundred small pieces, laid down one experience at a time. This weekend, Shep laid a few more.