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I knew I had big, powerful dogs and I wanted to be a responsible owner. But more than that, I wanted that companionship, that knowing rapport between canine and human, that makes mere obedience a crude goal. I tried all kinds of trainers and training methods, but nothing seemed to sit right with my heart, my head, and my observation of my own dogs. After three traditional obedience classes (lots of jerking the leash and manhandling the dog), Pearl had shut down. She had done well, she was obedient, but she wasn’t present. A friend once described her as autistic. She wasn’t exactly a prime candidate for a therapy dog.
By the time we got Marley, I was convinced that punitive training didn’t work for bullmastiffs, and I knew I couldn’t continue to interact with my dogs from a mental and emotional framework of conflict. I had an exuberant, loving, social puppy who loved learning and I wanted to foster that. I found a trainer who billed herself as “positive” and signed up for a puppy class. I only went to one class. Her method turned out to be lure and punish rather than teach and reward. I was pretty sure I could get Marley to follow a piece of cheese without paying $90 to have someone explain it to me. Worse yet, though the trainer had titles on her Golden Retrievers, she had clearly never encountered a bullmastiff. She never looked at us during class and didn’t invite us to play in the puppy play session afterward as if there were something wrong or dangerous about Marley. I decided I had had it with trainers.
As Marley grew I did a lot of reading on clicker and positive training and continued to train on my own. I liked what I was seeing in his attitude to training and we enjoyed working together. Marley got his CGC and passed his therapy dog test at 18 months. I was running into some issues with the clicker training, but overall I was happier with my dogs and happier with myself.
At two Marley weighed 143 lbs. and, as an intact male, was coming into adolescence hard. If I had been more experienced or had had better mentoring, I would have seen warning signs earlier, but all I saw was my sweet, goofy puppy. Then one night Marley dragged me halfway around the block to attack our neighbor’s dog. My whole world changed. I couldn’t have clicked my clicker if I’d wanted to. All I could do was hang onto the leash and hope the outcome wasn’t too bad.
After I got Marley off the other dog, I dragged him across the street and forced him into a down. Clicker training had left me with no way of dealing with what had just happened (was I supposed to ignore the behavior and hope it would fade? or should I click and treat him for stopping?), so I resorted to dominance behavior. Once I’d forced him onto the ground, I looked into his eyes and saw something that terrified me: contempt. In that moment he’d realized how little control I actually had and he was disgusted. Seeing myself through his eyes, I lost all trust in him. I loved him and I knew he loved me, but the world was no longer a safe place for us.
The next day I called a local trainer well known for her successful work with large, aggressive dogs. Without even meeting Marley, she told me to neuter him and find a farm where he could live without other dogs for the rest of his life. She said if I did keep him, he was ruined as a therapy dog. Finally, she told me she wouldn’t work with me. I was devastated. I had just been told that my dog was irredeemable and I had no one to turn to for help.
By the time I met Anne, I’d been to seven dog trainers. I had tried traditional punitive training, so-called positive training, and training on my own. I wasn’t anywhere close to the kind of companionship I’d dreamed about with my dogs and I certainly wasn’t doing the volunteer work I’d hoped to do with them.
Instead I walked them in fear, counting on equipment (first a prong collar, then a Halti) to save us from another disaster. My world with my dogs had slowly shrunk, and even as I felt plagued by dissatisfaction, I had begun to accept my bunker mentality as normal. Bullmastiffs were just aloof and stubborn and dog aggressive and difficult to train and I loved them anyway. I didn’t expect Anne to challenge any of that. I had never had a trainer challenge any of the stereotypes about my breed. I just wanted some help with the basics. I had no way of knowing that working with Anne would change everything about my relationship with my dogs.
When I made my first appointment, Anne told me to schedule three hours. Three hours?! What could we possibly do for three hours? Yes, she said, she would spend an hour and a half evaluating each dog. I arrived at my first lesson early and watched Anne finish up with two other students. I was immediately struck by how she watched each dog and handler and gave individualized feedback on what she was seeing in the interaction between the two. I was impressed by how much fun everyone was having but also by how focused the dogs and their people were. By the time Anne was ready for my lesson, I knew I was stepping into something different.
The three hours of my first lesson flew by. Anne gave me directions and watched me work my dogs. I started to relax as we worked, sensing that Anne was assessing my dogs as individuals in that moment rather than judging their breed or their past interactions. In the midst of trying to absorb everything she was showing me, I suddenly realized I felt safe for the first time in a long time. I knew I could be absolutely honest about where I was with my dogs and I believed for the first time that we could move into a new relationship. At the end of the three hours, Anne gave me some tasks to work on until our next lesson. I left on fire. I was ready to work. In that initial session I had seen a glimmer of the dogs I had always wanted.
At the end of our second session, Anne began gently questioning me about Pearl’s health. Although we had struggled with Pearl’s health throughout her life, I had thought we had gotten to a stable place. I was satisfied. But in watching us, Anne knew I had a sick dog and she recognized that much of Pearl’s lack of responsiveness was a result of not feeling well. I had often been frustrated with Pearl’s personality, but had somehow never considered that there might be a lot more dog hidden inside a still ailing body. Anne referred me to a holistic vet and I began working with him immediately. As Pearl’s health improved, she blossomed. She worked with a drive and intensity I had never seen in her before, and I had to start breaking down my own habitual attitudes toward her as an unhealthy and unresponsive dog. Suddenly I had a partner and I had to begin living up to what she was offering me. It is humbling to realize that, without Anne’s help, I might have missed all of the depth and intelligence and humor in this wonderful dog.
As Anne and I worked, my confidence continued to grow. I began to feel more relaxed with Marley and was no longer using a Halti collar. One morning, about a year into our training, a large, male dog came tearing down the front steps of a house at me and Marley. Staying as calm as I could, I turned Marley around and asked him to make eye contact with me as we walked across the street. Marley ignored the dog and trotted along with me, making eye contact the entire time. When we got across the street, I told him to sit. He immediately sat in front of me, still making eye contact, pricked up his ears, and wagged his tail. As the other dog barked and lunged at us, Marley sat calmly looking into my eyes. I could have sworn he was smiling, as if he knew what the game was and thought it was fun. In that moment, through the pinging of adrenaline, I felt my trust in him return. I knew this dog, and I knew he was with me. It wasn’t about the leash or what kind of collar I used, it was about us understanding and respecting each other. I had my dog back.
In the process of training, I learned many things from Anne beyond the mere mechanics of training. I learned to check in with my dogs before we trained and as we worked. What was their mental and physical state at a given moment? What were they able to bring to training that day? And what were their limits for the moment? Anne taught me to respect my dogs as individuals and partners in the training process. By working within their capabilities at any given moment rather than always pushing through a set agenda, I was able to put my relationship with them first and I made faster and more lasting progress.
Anne also taught me to check in with myself before training. What emotions or expectations was I holding onto at that moment? And how did that affect my dogs and what I was asking them to do? Only by being aware of myself have I been able to respect my dogs for who they are.
Several years have passed since I have trained formally, but I use what I learned with Anne every day. The foundation we built is there in both dogs. I see and feel it in everything we do. Anne gave me the tools I need to navigate the world with my dogs with joy and confidence. I know they feel the same way. I see it in the calm confidence and focus with which they take on everything I ask of them. And I am reminded of it every time someone comments on how lucky I am to have such nice dogs. I smile to myself knowing that luck has nothing to do with it.
Pearl is now largely retired. After a rough start in life, she remains sound and mentally sharp at nine. I can still put her through her paces and she performs with the energy of a dog half her age. Best of all, she still loves to learn new things. Marley has gone on to excel as a therapy dog. He has been a registered Delta Society Pet Partner for five and a half years and has visited in hospitals, nursing homes, children’s homes, and schools. As a Reading Education Assistance Dog he appeared in a Jane Goodall Animal Planet special on animal communication. He has worked as an animal model for stock photos one of which turned up in Reader’s Digest. Most recently he became the first therapy dog in the Washington State Critical Incident Stress Management Network. He and I will be working as a therapy team helping first responders overcome post traumatic stress.
I find it hard to express verbally the gift Anne has given me. I have achieved more with my dogs than I ever hoped. But more importantly, I have gained the insight and the skills to forge a true partnership with each of them. I now have companions, not just pets. Savvy Dog revolutionized my relationship with my dogs. Calling Anne a dog trainer is like calling Baryshnikov a song and dance man.
Success Stories Monica's Story Monica's Story
I fell in love with bullmastiffs while browsing a dog encyclopedia at a bookstore. I hadn’t had a puppy since I was a kid and my husband had never owned a dog. Neither of us had ever seen a bullmastiff, much less known anyone who owned one. We did a little reading online, went to a dog show, met a breeder with a litter, and a month later we brought home Pearl. Two years later, with a little more experience and forethought, we added Marley to the pack. My dream was to use both dogs for animal assisted therapy.
I knew I had big, powerful dogs and I wanted to be a responsible owner. But more than that, I wanted that companionship, that knowing rapport between canine and human, that makes mere obedience a crude goal. I tried all kinds of trainers and training methods, but nothing seemed to sit right with my heart, my head, and my observation of my own dogs. After three traditional obedience classes (lots of jerking the leash and manhandling the dog), Pearl had shut down. She had done well, she was obedient, but she wasn’t present. A friend once described her as autistic. She wasn’t exactly a prime candidate for a therapy dog.
By the time we got Marley, I was convinced that punitive training didn’t work for bullmastiffs, and I knew I couldn’t continue to interact with my dogs from a mental and emotional framework of conflict. I had an exuberant, loving, social puppy who loved learning and I wanted to foster that. I found a trainer who billed herself as “positive” and signed up for a puppy class. I only went to one class. Her method turned out to be lure and punish rather than teach and reward. I was pretty sure I could get Marley to follow a piece of cheese without paying $90 to have someone explain it to me. Worse yet, though the trainer had titles on her Golden Retrievers, she had clearly never encountered a bullmastiff. She never looked at us during class and didn’t invite us to play in the puppy play session afterward as if there were something wrong or dangerous about Marley. I decided I had had it with trainers.
As Marley grew I did a lot of reading on clicker and positive training and continued to train on my own. I liked what I was seeing in his attitude to training and we enjoyed working together. Marley got his CGC and passed his therapy dog test at 18 months. I was running into some issues with the clicker training, but overall I was happier with my dogs and happier with myself.
At two Marley weighed 143 lbs. and, as an intact male, was coming into adolescence hard. If I had been more experienced or had had better mentoring, I would have seen warning signs earlier, but all I saw was my sweet, goofy puppy. Then one night Marley dragged me halfway around the block to attack our neighbor’s dog. My whole world changed. I couldn’t have clicked my clicker if I’d wanted to. All I could do was hang onto the leash and hope the outcome wasn’t too bad.
After I got Marley off the other dog, I dragged him across the street and forced him into a down. Clicker training had left me with no way of dealing with what had just happened (was I supposed to ignore the behavior and hope it would fade? or should I click and treat him for stopping?), so I resorted to dominance behavior. Once I’d forced him onto the ground, I looked into his eyes and saw something that terrified me: contempt. In that moment he’d realized how little control I actually had and he was disgusted. Seeing myself through his eyes, I lost all trust in him. I loved him and I knew he loved me, but the world was no longer a safe place for us.
The next day I called a local trainer well known for her successful work with large, aggressive dogs. Without even meeting Marley, she told me to neuter him and find a farm where he could live without other dogs for the rest of his life. She said if I did keep him, he was ruined as a therapy dog. Finally, she told me she wouldn’t work with me. I was devastated. I had just been told that my dog was irredeemable and I had no one to turn to for help.
By the time I met Anne, I’d been to seven dog trainers. I had tried traditional punitive training, so-called positive training, and training on my own. I wasn’t anywhere close to the kind of companionship I’d dreamed about with my dogs and I certainly wasn’t doing the volunteer work I’d hoped to do with them.
Instead I walked them in fear, counting on equipment (first a prong collar, then a Halti) to save us from another disaster. My world with my dogs had slowly shrunk, and even as I felt plagued by dissatisfaction, I had begun to accept my bunker mentality as normal. Bullmastiffs were just aloof and stubborn and dog aggressive and difficult to train and I loved them anyway. I didn’t expect Anne to challenge any of that. I had never had a trainer challenge any of the stereotypes about my breed. I just wanted some help with the basics. I had no way of knowing that working with Anne would change everything about my relationship with my dogs.
When I made my first appointment, Anne told me to schedule three hours. Three hours?! What could we possibly do for three hours? Yes, she said, she would spend an hour and a half evaluating each dog. I arrived at my first lesson early and watched Anne finish up with two other students. I was immediately struck by how she watched each dog and handler and gave individualized feedback on what she was seeing in the interaction between the two. I was impressed by how much fun everyone was having but also by how focused the dogs and their people were. By the time Anne was ready for my lesson, I knew I was stepping into something different.
The three hours of my first lesson flew by. Anne gave me directions and watched me work my dogs. I started to relax as we worked, sensing that Anne was assessing my dogs as individuals in that moment rather than judging their breed or their past interactions. In the midst of trying to absorb everything she was showing me, I suddenly realized I felt safe for the first time in a long time. I knew I could be absolutely honest about where I was with my dogs and I believed for the first time that we could move into a new relationship. At the end of the three hours, Anne gave me some tasks to work on until our next lesson. I left on fire. I was ready to work. In that initial session I had seen a glimmer of the dogs I had always wanted.
At the end of our second session, Anne began gently questioning me about Pearl’s health. Although we had struggled with Pearl’s health throughout her life, I had thought we had gotten to a stable place. I was satisfied. But in watching us, Anne knew I had a sick dog and she recognized that much of Pearl’s lack of responsiveness was a result of not feeling well. I had often been frustrated with Pearl’s personality, but had somehow never considered that there might be a lot more dog hidden inside a still ailing body. Anne referred me to a holistic vet and I began working with him immediately. As Pearl’s health improved, she blossomed. She worked with a drive and intensity I had never seen in her before, and I had to start breaking down my own habitual attitudes toward her as an unhealthy and unresponsive dog. Suddenly I had a partner and I had to begin living up to what she was offering me. It is humbling to realize that, without Anne’s help, I might have missed all of the depth and intelligence and humor in this wonderful dog.
As Anne and I worked, my confidence continued to grow. I began to feel more relaxed with Marley and was no longer using a Halti collar. One morning, about a year into our training, a large, male dog came tearing down the front steps of a house at me and Marley. Staying as calm as I could, I turned Marley around and asked him to make eye contact with me as we walked across the street. Marley ignored the dog and trotted along with me, making eye contact the entire time. When we got across the street, I told him to sit. He immediately sat in front of me, still making eye contact, pricked up his ears, and wagged his tail. As the other dog barked and lunged at us, Marley sat calmly looking into my eyes. I could have sworn he was smiling, as if he knew what the game was and thought it was fun. In that moment, through the pinging of adrenaline, I felt my trust in him return. I knew this dog, and I knew he was with me. It wasn’t about the leash or what kind of collar I used, it was about us understanding and respecting each other. I had my dog back.
In the process of training, I learned many things from Anne beyond the mere mechanics of training. I learned to check in with my dogs before we trained and as we worked. What was their mental and physical state at a given moment? What were they able to bring to training that day? And what were their limits for the moment? Anne taught me to respect my dogs as individuals and partners in the training process. By working within their capabilities at any given moment rather than always pushing through a set agenda, I was able to put my relationship with them first and I made faster and more lasting progress.
Anne also taught me to check in with myself before training. What emotions or expectations was I holding onto at that moment? And how did that affect my dogs and what I was asking them to do? Only by being aware of myself have I been able to respect my dogs for who they are.
Several years have passed since I have trained formally, but I use what I learned with Anne every day. The foundation we built is there in both dogs. I see and feel it in everything we do. Anne gave me the tools I need to navigate the world with my dogs with joy and confidence. I know they feel the same way. I see it in the calm confidence and focus with which they take on everything I ask of them. And I am reminded of it every time someone comments on how lucky I am to have such nice dogs. I smile to myself knowing that luck has nothing to do with it.
Pearl is now largely retired. After a rough start in life, she remains sound and mentally sharp at nine. I can still put her through her paces and she performs with the energy of a dog half her age. Best of all, she still loves to learn new things. Marley has gone on to excel as a therapy dog. He has been a registered Delta Society Pet Partner for five and a half years and has visited in hospitals, nursing homes, children’s homes, and schools. As a Reading Education Assistance Dog he appeared in a Jane Goodall Animal Planet special on animal communication. He has worked as an animal model for stock photos one of which turned up in Reader’s Digest. Most recently he became the first therapy dog in the Washington State Critical Incident Stress Management Network. He and I will be working as a therapy team helping first responders overcome post traumatic stress.
I find it hard to express verbally the gift Anne has given me. I have achieved more with my dogs than I ever hoped. But more importantly, I have gained the insight and the skills to forge a true partnership with each of them. I now have companions, not just pets. Savvy Dog revolutionized my relationship with my dogs. Calling Anne a dog trainer is like calling Baryshnikov a song and dance man.