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Some of you may know me, others may not, so I thought I'd share a bit of the events that led me to be what I am and where I am today—in all acutality, it was my dogs. And Keaton, my current boy, continues to transform what I do and how I think.
For those of you who read my book, The Original Rocket Recall™, you understand my transformation, but I thought it was worth sharing here at the beginning of the TrainerTalk journey.
It was the tragic death of a dog that propelled me on the path toward dog training. My husband, Brad (also now a professional dog trainer), and I rescued a stray, mixed-breed dog in 1996 whom we named Abbey. Living in Marietta, Georgia, a suburb of Atlanta, we wanted her to be a well-trained dog, so we called around in search of a local dog trainer until we found a training class near our home.
Abbey the Angel Dog
On the first night of class, we were issued a leather leash, a choke collar, a prong collar, a six-inch tether, and a fleece mat. We were taught how to jerk on the leash to correct Abbey when she did something we didn’t like.
We learned how to step on the leash quickly, and with force, to make her lie down. With one end of the tether attached to the baseboard and the other end attached to her choke chain around her neck, we learned to walk away from her and only return when she gave up struggling. We learned how to alpha roll her when she snapped at another dog to purportedly show her we were the boss.
We were told to practice what we learned in class in different places, so I took Abbey to a nearby strip mall shopping center to practice loose leash walking on the sidewalk. It was during this trip I first felt what I was doing to my dog was wrong.
Abbey was dressed in her usual training gear: a choke collar and a prong collar (also known as a pinch collar). The leash was attached to the prong collar. As instructed, I gave the “heel” command and started walking at a brisk pace. Abbey followed. Then, also as instructed and without any forewarning to Abbey, I did an about-face. But Abbey kept walking forward, so I yanked hard on the leash while turning around to look at her. What I saw on her face was confusion and fear. Fear of me.
I didn’t understand dog body language back then, but I knew enough to understand that Abbey didn’t enjoy what I did to her and certainly didn’t understand why I did it. I think she wondered why I hurt her.
Oh yes, she did hurry to catch up with me and I praised her as she did, though she had a sad look in her eyes. Not the happy face I had seen when we got out of the car. We didn’t know enough to question the training techniques we were taught. We continued in class, learned well, and Abbey graduated with honors.
In December of 2000, we added a blue merle Australian Shepherd, Carter, to our home. By then we’d moved from the city to our country home here in Murphy, North Carolina. After attending a short puppy kindergarten class locally we wanted to carry on with further training.
Puppy Carter
We decided Carter should follow in the paw steps of Abbey and attend the Marietta dog training class. It had been four years since Abbey graduated. We felt she could use a refresher and enrolled both dogs. Crazy to think we drove four hours round trip each Monday to the same facility where we took with Abbey in 1996.
Carter was bouncy and happy in class, but Abbey was different this time—she didn’t want to get out of the car. We managed to coax her out of the vehicle and into class, but it was becoming evident to us she didn’t enjoy anything inside or outside that building.
Now that I had an Australian Shepherd, I set my sights on agility. A few people I knew who had Aussies were doing agility. It looked like such fun! There were no classes near me, so I bought a couple of agility training books. The training techniques in each of the books were different from what I learned in our dog training class.
Each book suggested using food to reinforce the dog when he made even the slightest bit of progress with an agility obstacle. This was all new to me and I liked it. I started using food. Carter’s exuberance and the effectiveness of this new way of training amazed me.
I saw nothing but joy and excitement in Carter’s eyes versus the uncertainty and fear I’d seen in Abbey’s eyes when I was using the choke and prong collars. I thought, “Wow, I don’t have to hurt my dog to train my dog? I have immediate buy-in—he’s such a willing partner!”
I had just discovered positive reinforcement training. Carter was my crossover dog, though I didn’t know the term at the time. I had crossed over from using aversive training to positive reinforcement training.
Chose Delight!
We continued to have all sorts of success with the backyard agility equipment I purchased. On Wednesday, March 13, 2003, we took our first competition agility lesson in Woodstock, Georgia. You should have seen Carter’s confidence while negotiating the new, never-before-seen obstacles. I was one proud Dog Mom. Little did I know that was the last time we would ever enjoy agility together.
Carter, February 2015
Three days later, the morning of Saturday, March 15, Carter was hit by a car, his back broken in two places and his spinal cord severed. Euthanasia was the only option. It took me three months to climb out of what I now know was depression. I emerged thinking, “I want to help others learn there’s a different way to train their dog.”
I was eager to use my newfound training methodology on another dog. Gibson, a handsome, blue merle Australian Shepherd puppy, joined our home in June of 2003, only a few months after Carter left us. With him by my side, I honed my positive reinforcement dog training skills and again achieved successful results. He left us at only eight years of age as a result of hemangioscarcoma.
It was such fun demonstrating positive training with Gibson in elementary schools
When Abbey passed away in 2008 after living a long, happy life, we adopted Cody, a two-year-old, red merle Australian Shepherd. Brad was Cody’s trainer and honed his own positive training skills with our new, fractious boy. How joyful it was to bounce training ideas off one another to overcome common training challenges.
Cody and Brad
In February of 2012, Willow joined our home and my positive reinforcement training journey continued.
Willow
Willow departed this world very unexpectedly at only six years of age. To say that my world turned black and white is an understatement. I wasn’t sure how to move forward in life with-out her or even if I could. I had soared knowing I was her person. Without her beside me I was lost. When her heart stopped beating, I felt as if mine had stopped, too. Willow changed my life in immeasurable ways—and the lives of others from her work as a canine teacher in our business. We were inseparable. The extraordinary bond we shared was visible to anyone who saw us together.
Beyond my boundless love for Willow, the results of her training were a shining example of how my training skills had grown over the years, including the way I blended a variety of training exercises to achieve a solid recall, known as the call to come. When she died, I lost the impetus to do most anything.
I put a lot of training hours into honing Willow’s recall skills and every single moment of training was joyful for both of us. That’s the thing about positive reinforcement training. You gain immediate buy-in from your dog resulting in unbridled enthusiasm.
No doubt my skills and our solid partnership brought about success, yet somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I thought I was merely lucky to have a dog who learned so easily. No matter that I had trained Willow’s predecessor, Gibson, in the same way with the same success. I still thought I’d been lucky.
Enter Cailie, our red tricolor Australian Shepherd who departed this world way too soon at four years of age.
Cailie
She joined our home only a month after Willow left us. Too soon in some respects, though in other ways she saved me from me. I was overtaken with grief and putting all my focus on training my over-the-top adorable, vibrant, spunky puppywas a wonderful coping mechanism.
I applied the same recall training techniques with Cailie that I did with Gibson and Willow. Seemingly before I could blink when I called her from the back of our pasture with her ecall cue, “Ca-Ca-Come” (“Ca-Ca” delivered in a staccato-like sound and “Come” more drawn out—“Coooooome”) she’d turn on a dime and with blazing speed skid into my feet like a base-ball player sliding into home plate. It thrilled me. Yet again I achieved a Rocket Recall.
And when Puppy Keaton joined our home in July of 2022, I began using the exact same techniques and you should see his Rocket Recall!
Puppy Keaton
So here I am many years later, a professionally educated, certified professional dog trainer who uses positive reinforcement to train dogs.
I believe in humane training. No dog should suffer physical pain or even mild discomfort during training. If a dog feels pain or discomfort during training, learning is difficult, if not impossible. Dogs are living breathing, sentient beings with needs and wants. I want to meet every single one of my dogs’ needs and most of their wants.
And I advocate for my dog. To me, advocating for my dog means putting the physical and emotional well-being of my dog before my own needs. This includes protecting my dogs from injury, from other dogs, and from other people. It also means I may need to speak up for my dogs in a variety of situations because they don’t have the ability to do so.
Being my dog’s advocate builds trust between us. I want my dog to trust that I will put him only into situations that he can comfortably handle.
Trust. It’s an important component in a relationship. It’s also an important component in a teacher and learner relationship.
All information, tips, and training techniques I share here in the TrainerTalk space will be designed to help build trust with you and your incredible dog.
With trust, the seemingly impossible becomes possible.
Chillin' with Keaton
Each additional dog has brought so many new interests, experiences, and richness levels to my life—no doubt it's been the same for you.
Thanks so much for being here.
I'd love to hear from you about your current or past dogs and how they've shaped you and touched your heart.
Till next time,
Lisa
Lisa, thank you for sharing those precious and sacred moments about each of the dogs that have become little furry hero’s in your story. I can relate so much to the grief of them passing, the puppy rescuing you in those times and being extremely passionate about advocating for our dogs as individuals and proclaiming TRUST is the way to our ‘doggie dilemas’. I cried so much while reading your post. My current dog, I didn’t think I could love her deeply because of the amazing connection I had with my previous animals. Fortunately, she has become a beautiful partner and continues to be an active part of grief healing about my previous animals.