Faithful Friends Dog Training, LLC.

22/06/2025

Mistakes are invitations - brilliant!

I had one of those moments the other day. You know the kind: I called Juno to come and she… didn’t. At all. She paused, looked directly at me, then trotted off in the exact opposite direction to sniff what I can only assume was a highly opinionated patch of grass.

And I stood there thinking, “Right. So… we’re doing that today.”

But here’s the thing. I didn’t correct her.

Not because I’m endlessly calm or above the occasional frustrated sigh. But because I’ve made an ethical commitment not to respond to uncertainty or error with pressure.

Instead, I got curious.

🐾 Did I interrupt something important to her?
🐾 Was the cue still meaningful in that context?
🐾 Had I reinforced “come to me” less than “go explore” lately?
🐾 Was this a breakdown in behaviour or in communication?
🐾Was the reinforcer less valuable in that context? Was something else more valuable in that moment?

In dog training, it’s easy to slip into the mindset of “She didn’t do it = she needs to be corrected.” But non-compliance isn’t a character flaw. It’s a clue. And "mistakes" (hers or mine, if you even what to call them that) are invitations to slow down and recalibrate, not tighten the screws.

So what do I do instead of correcting?

🔄 I reset the loop.
🎯 I reinforce the behaviours I do want to see, even if they’re approximations.
🧠 I reassess the conditions I’ve created.
💬 I treat every “error” as a conversation starter, not a power struggle.

Because training isn't about forcing dogs to comply. It’s about listening, adjusting, and co-creating a process where both of us feel safe enough to try again.

Mistakes will happen. That’s not the problem. The real question is, how do we respond? And that’s where ethics show up. In our smallest choices, especially when things go sideways.

20/06/2025

Meet Freddy the Puli who is in my Puppy Building Blocks class. Don't worry, he's not hiding, he's posing between his Mom's legs!
The Puli is an ancient Hungarian sheepdog who at age 1 1/2 to 2 years, will begin to develop cords - think dreadlocks - that need to be meticulously maintained.
Freddy's "brother" Harry the Puli, one best in breed at Westminster!

20/06/2025

Er mer gerd....Look at this wee little love nugget in my Puppy Building Blocks class! Lou (short for Louise) is a 10 week-old Brittany Spaniel, who is super-social and super-quick to learn! So happy for Lou's Mom & Dad whom I haven't seen for several years. Welcome back and congrats on your amazing pup!

04/06/2025

Yes!

This is why relationship before horsemanship is important. The problems are solved by meeting the need, not by correcting the “problem”…

04/06/2025

YAY! Such a well-written post! I share this same concept with my clients - how's your leash walking (the dog's AND yours)? Recall and leash walking ARE related!

04/06/2025

"𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙊𝙆...𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙮!"

What do you do when it goes a bit wrong? Today we were working with newly adopted Torrin on calmness in the presence of other dogs when a very friendly, very bouncy young dog charged into his space and kept coming back for more until she decided that, perhaps, she'd bitten off a wee bit more than she could chew (Torrin isn't aggressive but he is very big & a bit too full on with other dogs).

What did we do?

• stayed calm
• shortened the lead and held onto his harness
• waited for the dog to leave (under other circumstances we may have moved but Torrin is strong and was already over threshold so, on balance, I felt it was better to stay put & minimise movement)
• settled Torrin
• checked that the other dog and their owner were ok

What didn't we do? Start berating the other dog owner. Should their dog have run full pelt at another dog? No. Should they have been able to recall their dog? Ideally, yes. Should their dog have been fully off lead? Probably not.

BUT...we're all human. How many of us can say, hand on heart, that neither we nor our dogs have ever made a mistake. How many of us, if we've not had a reactive dog, can honestly say we've really considered what impact one dog running up to another can have? Also, it's a public park and if we're working 'in the wild' then we have to accept there's a risk that we may be approached by other dogs because that's life, whether we like it or not. I have to accept some responsibility for the situation too...I'm normally pretty good at spotting, and avoiding, potential hazards but this time I totally missed it.

When things go wrong which is a better use of your energy? Becoming angry and berating people for not doing what you think they should? Or trying to make a bad situation better and helping your own dog to rebalance and recover?

If we're trying to teach our dogs that thoughtful responses are better than over reactions then perhaps we need to try modelling that a bit ourselves...?

04/06/2025

Details matter.

28/05/2025

Compassion. Empathy. Awareness. Thank you for this amazing post, Julie Naismith.

At first, it just looks like a dog lying quietly under a table.
Or a dog being "shy" at the vet. Or a dog yawning on a walk. Or a dog that's "stubborn" at training class.

But once you understand fear in dogs - once you really get it - you start seeing something else entirely.

You notice the tucked tail. The frozen posture. The darting eyes. The way they're trying to make themselves invisible.

And suddenly, what used to look "normal" now feels heartbreaking.
Because here's the thing: fear doesn't always look dramatic.

It's not always growling or cowering or hiding behind furniture.

Sometimes it's a dog who "just lies there." Sometimes it's the one who seems "calm" - but is actually shut down. Sometimes it's the dog who's scanning constantly, unable to settle.

And once you see it... you see it everywhere.
At puppy classes where dogs are supposedly "socializing"

In busy dog parks full of big personalities

In shops and cafés and family BBQs where the humans are having fun - and the dog is just enduring it

Look, this isn't about making people feel bad. It's about compassion. And clarity.

Because when we can see fear, we can finally stop blaming the dog. We can stop calling them dramatic, reactive, or difficult. We can start asking: What would help them feel safe right now?

And that's when everything shifts.

You become the person who leaves the party early because you saw that look in your dog's eyes. The one who crosses the street not because the approaching dog is aggressive, but because yours whispered "please, no."

You start hearing what they've been trying to tell you all along - in the lip licks when nothing's wet, the yawns when they're not tired, the way they turn into statues hoping the world will just pass them by.

People might not get it. They'll wonder why you're being so careful, so protective. They'll insist your dog needs to "toughen up" or "get used to things."

But you can't unhear what you've learned to hear. You can't unsee what you've learned to see.

Understanding fear doesn't mean permanently wrapping your dog in bubble wrap. (Though sometimes that IS the right thing)

It means being the person who says, "I see you. I hear you. I've got you."
Because once you know what fear looks like in dogs... you'll never unsee it.

And you'll never stop fighting to make the world feel safer for them.

If you've had that moment - the one where you suddenly saw it - share this. Let someone else see what you see now.

28/05/2025

We are a group of Veterinarians, Veterinary Technicians, and Doctorate level Animal Behaviorists dedicated to improving the lives of animals and people through an understanding of animal behavior. Join us and discover how insight into animal behavior can strengthen the human animal bond and enhance....