Family K9 Dog Training

09/02/2026

Featured Dogs: From Reactive to Reliable

For the first installment of Featured Dogs, I wanted to highlight two dogs who came to me with a very similar problem: dog reactivity.
Both dogs were capable of functioning normally in many situations, but put another dog into the picture and things changed. Their owners needed help getting past the reactivity and, more importantly, needed the dogs to learn how to function appropriately around other dogs without constant conflict or management.
That doesn't happen by simply putting two reactive dogs together and hoping
things improve through treats, correction or basic desensitization.
The first part of the process was teaching each dog what was expected of them and holding them to those expectations. They worked around one another under structure, learning that the presence of another dog did not change the rules.
You can see some of that work in these photos and clips: both dogs holding place beside each other, focused and composed.
Then we changed the picture.
One dog would work with me while the other was free to sniff, explore the yard, or simply be a dog. Then they switched.
That part is important. A dog needs to learn how to work when asked, but also how to exist without constantly being told what to do. Freedom has to be earned, and the dog needs to understand that freedom does not mean abandoning the rules.
Over time, the dogs were able to work in closer proximity, relax around each other, and eventually move from structured work to something much less formal.
And then came the part everyone wants to see:
They ran and played together.
The playing part of the training. It's the "off" in then"on/off switch" preparation.
The goal was never simply to make these two dogs look good in a controlled situation. The goal was to build enough clarity, structure, and accountability that they could make better choices when the environment changed.

08/30/2026

08/28/2026

I’m currently working with a four-year-old doodle who came to me with a lifetime of fear and reactivity toward both humans and dogs.
Prior to contacting me for a consultation, he had bitten a man in his 70s who was doing nothing more than standing nearby. The man was completely immobile. He wasn’t looking at the dog, speaking to the owners, or attempting to interact with him in any way.
The owners reported that the dog watched him intently for some time and then, seemingly out of nowhere, lunged and bit him in the arm badly enough to require stitches.
But it wasn’t really out of nowhere.
This is a dog who has divided the world into two circles.
You are either inside his circle of trust, where you are safe, familiar, and accepted—or you are outside it, in the potential-threat circle.
That man may as well have been a cardboard cutout. The dog wasn’t responding to something the man did. He was responding to what the dog believed the man might represent.
That distinction matters.
Our work with this dog is not simply about teaching him obedience or trying to suppress his reactions. We are teaching him that there is a third option available to him besides fight or flight:
Do nothing.
Do nothing, and the situation resolves itself.
The motivation behind his behavior is overwhelmingly his need to feel safe. So rather than trying to overpower that motivation, we are working with it.
The discovery we are leading him toward is that he can feel safe without taking action.
If he does nothing, nothing bad happens. The person remains where they are. The person eventually leaves. Life continues. He remains safe.
That is a very different lesson from simply telling a dog what not to do.
We had one session together before we were both away for a week on vacation. When I returned today for session number two, the owners told me that contractors had been in the house doing work prior to my arrival.
The dog stayed calmly on his place.
No reaction. No escalation. No attempt to control the contractors.
And that was significant—not because he had obeyed a command, but because he had made a different decision.
He wasn’t lying there thinking, I’ve been told not to react.
He was beginning to understand that he and the contractors were in two separate lanes. They were doing their thing. He was doing his. Neither needed to become part of the other’s story.
That is the kind of change I’m looking for.
Not a dog who has simply learned to inhibit a behavior because someone told him to.
A dog who begins to understand that he doesn’t have to do anything at all.
Sometimes the safest and most productive response is to let the situation exist without becoming involved in it.
For a dog who has spent four years believing that the world outside his circle of trust is a potential threat, that is a significant discovery.

08/25/2026

Before I can tell you what I can change in your dog, I need to understand the world your dog lives in.

A consultation isn’t just about assessing the dog.
It’s about assessing the entire situation—the dog, the home environment, the people living with the dog, their understanding of what is going on, and what they realistically expect to accomplish.

One of the things I take a lot of pride in is being able to sit down with an owner and break the situation apart with them. I want them to leave with a clearer understanding of what is happening, what is driving the behavior, what we need to focus on, and, perhaps most importantly, what they can realistically expect.

Because the outcome isn’t defined by the dog alone.

It’s defined by the entire situation—the dog, the people, the history, the environment, and everything that makes up the context.

I’ve worked with feral dogs that, by the end of our program, could go into a dog park and socialize with other dogs without issue.

I’ve also worked with dogs that, by the end of the program, were extremely well trained but were never going to be what I would consider social.

And that was perfectly fine.

Those dogs could go out with their owners, walk through public places, pass other dogs, and go about their lives behaving appropriately. Unless someone knew their history, they would have no idea what those dogs had overcome.

Both were successful outcomes.

They just weren’t the same outcome.

That distinction is important because context gets overlooked so often.

You have to look at the dog in front of you, but you also have to understand the history behind that dog.

Temperament matters.

Genetics matter.

What the dog has learned over the years matters. So does what has been reinforced, the environment the dog lives in, the people living with it, what those people are realistically able and willing to do, what they’ve already tried, and what they actually expect to get out of training.

All of it matters.

And all of it affects the outcome.

That’s why I put so much time into my consultations. I want to understand the whole picture before I tell someone what I believe training can accomplish.

Sometimes what they want is completely realistic.

Sometimes we need to adjust the goal.

And sometimes I have to tell them that what they’re hoping for simply isn’t something I believe is realistic for that particular dog and that particular situation.

I’m okay with that.

In fact, I believe it’s part of my responsibility.

I don’t think it’s ethical to tell someone what they want to hear simply because I want them to hire me.

If I believe the expectation is unrealistic, I’m going to tell you.

If I don’t think we’re a good fit, I’m going to tell you that too.

I may lose a few clients because of that. I’m completely comfortable with it.

I’d much rather have that conversation before we ever start working together than take someone’s money and spend the next several months trying to make reality fit a promise I never should have made.

After decades of doing this, I’m not interested in selling people a particular picture of what their dog is going to become if that picture isn’t realistic.

I’m interested in looking at the dog, the people, the history, and the circumstances and figuring out what a genuinely good outcome looks like for that particular situation.

Because good training isn’t about promising people the outcome they want.

It’s about understanding what is realistically possible—and then helping them get there.

That’s what realistic expectations are.

And that’s where good training starts.

08/22/2026

Recall. Fly.
He’s a friggin’ bulldog running at warp speed.

Full speed on the recall. Seaweed in the way. He clears it.

Then straight into heel. Catches his breath. Looks up.

The jump makes for good slow motion, but that last look is what I really like.

There’s structure in the work, but there’s also heart. Drive. Confidence. Trust. Enthusiasm.

A dog that understands what’s expected, gives you everything he’s got, and still wants to be right there with you when it’s over.

That’s the good stuff. That’s more meaningful to me than all the speed and flash.

08/20/2026

Following up on my last video with this dog, I wanted to show you another part of what we’re working on.
What I want for him isn’t just to stop reacting.

I want him to learn to stop and think instead of treating everything like it’s life or death — like he either has to fight or run and hide.

There are other options.

He just doesn’t know that yet.

That’s what we’re working on.

This was day two.

On day one, I couldn’t get within 30 feet of him or his owner.

Now we’re sitting together on the stairs, talking, and he’s sitting at my feet.

His owner had explained that he’s terrified of the stairs. They’ve used chicken to get him up them. Sometimes he’ll scurry up to get the chicken, and other times he won’t go up at all.

So we worked on the stairs.

We didn’t need the chicken.

We didn’t need to distract him from the stairs or make him think we were doing something other than what we were actually doing.

The stairs were the issue, so the stairs were what we worked through.

He’s not completely comfortable. You can see that.

But he’s thinking.

He’s taking a chance. He’s moving forward and finding out that nothing bad happens.

And after doing it with him a couple of times, I handed the leash to his owner and stepped to let them practice together.
New discoveries, new possibilities leading to newfound confidence and a better life.

08/18/2026

“What does success look like for a dog like this?”
That was the question his owner asked me at our consultation.
He had come to Montreal from a rescue in Texas with an enormous amount of fear and reactivity—people, dogs, stairs, sounds, movement, even family members he lived with. Separation anxiety as well.
On Day 1, I couldn't initially get within 30 feet of him or his owner.
After giving him the time and space he needed to settle, I began showing him that his aggressive displays weren't necessary. I wasn't asking him to trust me or interact with me. I was asking him to understand that he didn't need to make me go away.
During that same lesson, he settled on the stairs with me beside his owner. Eventually, he cautiously came over to investigate.

Then I got up.
And he reset completely.
That was important too.
For him, movement was a potential threat. Changing the picture could change his response immediately.
By Days 3–4, I could approach him without the previous reaction. His posture was significantly more relaxed, and I was approaching from a distance where he didn't yet know it was me.
Then we had the neighbour outside, about 15 feet away, washing his garbage bins.
No reaction.
And finally, the same door where we started.
His owner comes out. He leads her outside. He sees me and stretches his neck toward me to investigate.
He's not sure, but he's willing to take a chance. Before, uncertainty meant going straight to his tried-and-true recipe: an aggressive display.
That's what changed. And that's what success looks like for him—not the absence of uncertainty, but an openness to doing something different from a very well-established pattern of reactivity.

08/14/2026

Hooligan loves everyone. And most people think he’s a party.
The first 32 seconds of this video are nothing but a young couple happily fussing over him. He’s thrilled with them—social, enthusiastic and completely into the interaction.

They walk away, and I notice people needing to pass without obstruction. I recall him, and training overrides impulse.

Two elderly women are making their way past us, one with a walker. The need space and don’t need the full Hooligan treatment.
Training gives them the space they need, the dog and behaviour I need and the ability for Hooligan to interact when and where appropriate - enjoying his life.

I train young dogs to turn on and off like this all the time, so I don’t find the switch itself particularly impressive. What I do value is what that ability gives a dog.

Hooligan gets to go out into the world. He gets to love people. He gets to be excited, social and completely himself.

And when I need to guide him - he understands.

That isn’t suppression.

It’s clarity.

He knows when he’s free to interact, and he knows when it’s time to work. No conflict between the two. No need to shut the dog down to have control of him.

A happy dog with a big personality who can still switch gears when asked.

08/08/2026

Funny how things come full circle.
Over a decade ago, I trained a chocolate Lab named Hershey for this owner.
I still have a picture of that Hershey.
A few months ago, she contacted me about another Hershey.
This Hershey was a very different dog with a distinct history and his challenges couldn't have been more different.
When we first started, the world was a pretty overwhelming place for him. I remember driving to her house through ice storms, the early walks, and the many hours spent helping him understand that not everything happening around him needed a response.
At one point, she reported that prior to training he slipped out of his harness because he saw people walking down the sidewalk.

Today, his owner sent me an update.
And what struck me most was what she didn’t talk about.
She didn’t talk about training sessions or commands.
She talked about their life.
She told me they stop for coffee at at a local Cafe during their walks, and Hershey quietly waits beside her for her latte.
She told me they walk for sniffs, not distance.
She told me he has three dog friends.
She told me he notices when a dog that normally barks from a house doesn’t bark.
Those details might sound small, but they’re actually the biggest changes.
A lot of the work with fearful dogs is teaching them that doing nothing is a behaviour.
They don’t need to investigate every sound. They don’t need to react to every person or dog. They don’t need to feel responsible for everything happening around them.
They need clarity. They need consistency. They need to understand what is expected.
Four months later, his owner isn’t talking about the training.
She’s talking about coffee, walks, and the life they get to share together.
That’s the goal.
Not a dog that performs for me.
A dog that understands the world well enough to live comfortably in it. Thank you for trusting me with both Hershey's - it's been a joy helping you all.
**And before anyone complains the naming is unoriginal - this person was donating to a dog rescue and they named a dog @ the rescue in honour of Hershey 1 who had passed away. And you guessed it - she adopted his namesake from aid rescue!

08/04/2026

The question you ask determines the direction your training takes.

One of the most important questions an owner can ask isn't, *"Why is my dog like this?"
It's, "What can I do differently to improve our performance as a team?"*

Those are two very different questions.

The first looks backward. The second looks forward.

Sometimes people bring home a dog without fully understanding what they're taking on. That isn't always because they were careless. A shelter or rescue may not have seen the full picture. Behaviour can change once a dog settles into a home. Some challenges don't become apparent until weeks or months later. Sometimes people simply underestimate what a particular dog will require.

That happens.

But once the dog is yours, spending your energy trying to determine who should have told you what, or who bears responsibility for the situation, doesn't change the dog living in your house today.

The dog doesn't care whose fault it is.

The dog responds to what happens today: the clarity of the communication, the consistency of the expectations, the quality of the handling, and the structure of daily life. Those are the things that change behaviour.

One of the realities of working with difficult dogs is that they often expose the handler's weaknesses just as much as their own. That's not an insult—it's simply the nature of training. The more complex the dog, the more precise the handling has to become. Timing matters. Consistency matters. Clear expectations matter. Small inconsistencies that an easier dog might overlook often become the very thing preventing progress.

When progress stalls, I encourage owners to ask themselves different questions.

Can I communicate more clearly?

Can I improve my timing?

Am I repeating cues instead of following through?

Am I being as consistent as I expect my dog to be?

Those questions lead to progress.

Understanding how you got here may provide context, but it rarely changes what happens next. Improving the way you communicate, handle, and lead your dog does.

You can't change your dog's past.

You can change what your dog experiences from this point forward.

That's where real progress begins—not by pointing fingers, but by becoming a better partner for the dog in front of you.