11/27/2025
Happy Thanksgiving! Let us reflect with the words of Chris Fraize
Hey guys,
Happy Thanksgiving to everybody.
I just want to take a moment to reflect on this primate national holiday where we’re all supposed to be celebrating with family and friends… hopefully trying to be better people, hopefully trying to be kinder, hopefully trying to communicate better.
I mean, that’s what Thanksgiving is about, right?
Look… I don’t know how it started, and I don’t know if it’s all built on a lie involving smallpox-infected blankets handed to Native Americans… but I like to think that whatever happened in the past is in the past, and we’re here now trying to make the best of what we’ve got.
I also wanted to step out from behind the paywall for a moment and say Happy Thanksgiving to you… and share something with you that’s not yelling.
Because here’s the thing:
You’re going to read this with your internal voice.
I don’t want you to hear your voice.
I want you to hear my voice.
I want you to know that I mean every single word of what follows.
It’s coming from the heart, and I thought it’d be a good Thanksgiving gift to the pet dog owner… a quiet little look in the mirror. So… enjoy.
Give thanks! Because…
This is about you.
You bought a puppy.
You adopted a rescue.
You found a stray and brought it home.
And from the second you made that choice, you decided everything.
You decided what the dog would eat.
You decided how it would live.
You decided its schedule, its boundaries, its rules…
or lack of them.
And the dog?
The dog had no say… though it was communicating.
No vote… just primate perceptions on your end.
No voice… because movement is dialogue.
Just a front-row seat to your decisions.
You were thrilled.
You were in love.
You were living the dream with the dog you wanted.
But as that dog watched you…
you were teaching it exactly who to be:
A spoiled brat.
A fearful codependent.
A hypersocial, non-mannered canine child acting like it just snorted a pound of coke and washed it down with a case of Monster energy drinks.
All through anthropomorphic projection…
your movement, your emotions, your inconsistency, your wishful thinking.
And you didn’t even know it.
You didn’t understand movement.
You didn’t understand leadership.
You didn’t understand the animal in front of you.
You wanted a dog…
but you never learned how to communicate with one.
And what happens in the absence of leadership?
(Insert your canine behavior issues here.)
You created it.
You shaped it.
You reinforced it.
What’s allowed will continue, and what you reinforced became law.
Then came the problems:
fear, reactivity, lunging, fighting, running, biting…
communication born from the world you created.
Now you were frustrated.
You were overwhelmed.
You were confused.
So… you chased the fixes that made you feel better:
• High-value treats
• Purely-positive socialization
• Fancy harnesses
• Electric collars
• Medications
• “Expert” advice from people who can’t read a dog
And understand…. I’m not yelling at you.
I’m telling you a truth no one else will:
The dog didn’t fail.
You did.
And this is still all on you.
Because when you got that dog…
you didn’t just step into dog ownership.
You stepped into an industry built entirely around your convenience.
Training programs built for your schedule.
Tools built for your comfort.
Puppy classes built for your feelings.
Marketing built for your ego.
Every service promising to fix your dog in a way that feels good to you.
And every dollar you spent told you the same lie:
“You’re doing the right thing.” And that’s why most people fail.
Because the system is designed to sell you comfort, not clarity.
Convenience, not communication. A fantasy, not responsibility.
Dogsmanship isn’t built for that.
Dogsmanship teaches you to look in the mirror.
To see the primate.
To be accountable for the world you create.
To communicate in a way a dog can actually understand.
To accept that the dog is never the problem…
you are.
And you can make that choice.
You can choose clarity, leadership, responsibility, truth.
But if what you really want is likes… or follows… or the perfect aesthetic…
or the dog that matches your furniture, your jacket, your image…
then… very little of what I have to tell you will make you happy.
Because the truth isn’t pretty. Especially when it’s necessary.
But it’s real.
And at the end of all this…
as it was when this journey began?
It’s not the dog… It’s you.
Safe training,
c.