Why I Became a Dog Trainer
A vibrant green and circular logo with a dark-haired young woman's face in the middle. Around the sides the logo says: Serene Sighthounds, training for running dogs.
It’s a quintessential dog trainer origin story:
Human gets dog, dog needs massive training, human dives deep into training to help their own dog. Except in my case, Raoul did not need massive behavioural modification. I just had very high expectations from him as a potential medical assistance dog, and there was no roadmap for a dog like him to train for the things I wanted.
A PetsMart Certificate of Achievement in Intermediate Education for “Raul” in his Pet Training Program.
Thus began my training journey in 2020, gathering as much information from whatever source I could find, and putting it to the test literally right away with Raoul. PetSmart puppy training? Check. Force free clicker training? Check. Premack principle? Check. Scouring blogs and listening to hundreds of hours of podcasts? Check and check and check and ChEcK.
The thing is, 99% of all the popular treat-based advice only worked half of the time at best with Raoul, very frequently seeming to backfire. I couldn’t shove treats in his mouth fast enough to break his stare at another dog, he just spat them out. I even drove to a Native American reservation and bought locally sourced coyote and raccoon pelts, thinking surely, this will get his attention on walks! Nope, he would rather stare at other dogs.
Raoul, a young black Borzoi -- a long-haired Russian sighthound -- stands with his leash stuck in a bench, staring excitedly off at a bicycle path in green woods in Washington State, USA.
It took over three years of struggling with pulling on the lead, moving to an entirely different continent, and encountering the Reactivity Smorgasbord that is London parks for me to say, this is not working. I have got to try something different. Everything I had tried to do with treats, gentle leaders, slow exposure, counter conditioning, you name it — had absolutely zero lasting effect in the constant high pressure stakes of London dog parks.
What had started as overexcitement towards other dogs was very quickly turning into defensiveness, due to the sheer number of dogs who barked their heads off, charged at us, and more, just for entering the park. As a medical assistance dog, I had to hold Raoul to a higher standard.
A black Borzoi, a sighthound from Russia with long fur, stands straining at his leash on a bridge over Green Park in London, next to a person in jeans and a large tote bag. The dog is staring intently at something in the distance.
I stumbled across an Azawakh breeder and trainer’s blog who regularly hikes with her dogs off lead, and it convinced me. If she could do it, why can’t I? I am hugely indebted to Kayley Paylor for her example and her courage in putting herself out there — it changed the entire course of my life.
That’s when I decided to go a new route.
I reached out to a trainer local to the UK who trained similarly, Sarah Beilfuss at The Good Dog Coach. Sarah showed me how to communicate with Raoul in a way he actually understood immediately. And when I said, “by the way, food rewards don’t work with him,” she was absolutely fine with it.
Out of all the trainers I’d worked with previously, all well meaning, almost all of them suggested finding a new, better, more exciting treat. It was so RELIEVING to have someone respect that, who believed me when I said, hey, I know my dog, and I know it’s crazy, but he doesn’t like food outside.
I made more progress with Raoul in THREE MONTHS under the tutelage of this London trainer, than I had made in 3 YEARS of hyperfixating on all the popular general advice. I threw out my gentle leader — Raoul always hated it anyway. I can walk him in heel now with him absolutely “bareback” — no collar, no harness, just my hand lightly stroking his neck curls.
A mostly black Borzoi / Russian Wolfhound lies calmly on a grey dog bed in a gold crate, his head resting on a purple blanket.
I started having a life again, able to make friends and date without worrying that I’d get a nasty call threatening eviction from my landlord for anxious howling. And best of all, I took the leash OFF, and let him RUN.
A black Borzoi runs head on towards the camera after an unseen lure, his ears flopping up and his mouth open in a wide grin. Picture by Lina Lileros of Liljeros Design.
I still remember that first day I ever let him off leash in public. We were traveling through Staffordshire, visiting a nearly empty forest on university grounds teeming with mushrooms, moss, and towering trees releasing their sharp scent in misty air — as a Seattle transplant, I felt immediately at home.
There was a hedge on one side of me, the woods on the other, and an abandoned road straight ahead, so I decided to give it a go, take off the lead entirely (we’d been doing leash drills and ecollar conditioning for a few weeks at that point). I let him go …
A black Borzoi, a long-haired Russian hunting hound, wades through a stream off leash in a verdant wood, lapping at the water eagerly.
… and he trotted ahead, sniffed, and peed. Looked back at me walking behind him, and then trotted some more, occasionally glancing my way.
My mind was blown, and I choked up. For YEARS I had kept him on lead, never trusting him, always living in absolute TERROR that if I dropped the leash, he would be gone. Stolen. Erased into the woods. Hit by a car. It’s a fear that lies DEEP within the heart of every human who loves a running dog. I never thought I would get away from it, never thought I could relax.
But here we were, there was no one else around, just me and my boy in the woods. And he stayed near me.
All of a sudden, I felt like we were partners. He’s not a child. For so long I had treated him like he couldn’t be trusted, like it was my sole responsibility to always be vigilant, and it had made my mental health hell. I realized, ***I*** was the truly reactive person, not him.
A black Borzoi, a large sighthound from Russia, leans his head on a dark-haired woman's lap as she sits on a bench in a cold London park.
When I finally let go of anxious, white-knuckled control after decent preparation, we went from a controller/controlled dynamic, to equal partners in looking out for each other. Raoul, the dog, looking out for my Cataplexy, making sure I have support if I need it. Serena, the human, finding new trails to explore, and advocating for him to strangers.
I started this business because now we are living a life 99% of sighthound owners barely even dare to dream of.
We go off-leash walking every damn day. Over fields public and private. Past horses and sheep and cows and geese and ducks and crows. Through crowds of people on concrete and in between shadows in dark forests.
And guess what? We’re still here. We train and take safety measures, yes, and then we get our butts out there.
A black and white Borzoi, a long-haired Russian sighthound, stands in a sunny clearing in a woods with his mouth open in a jolly pant. Another Borzoi, black and gold, cuts across the front of the image, blurred in motion.
We explore, we sniff, we run, we play, we train, and we keep on living in this marvelous world without being afraid to face it head on. It’s exhilarating and refreshing all at once, and I want more Borzoi and sighthound owners to know that feeling.
I want you to:
Know that your dog has the capability to surprise you.
Know that it’s absolutely possible to trust your dog, even in tough situations.
Know that walking your running dog can be a delight, that you can stop to smell the roses (or ferns, in my case) without breaking your fingers trying to hold onto a leash.
Know that your sighthound can succeed beyond your wildest dreams, embracing BOTH safety measures and free running: What they were born to do.
If you’ve got this far, I hope something has resonated with you. I don’t profess to know everything about training. I am not out here trying to do everything for every dog. I am not a severe behavioural modification girlie (though I have many friends who are!). I am not a competition sports-focused trainer, at least, not yet!
My training focus — both around the UK and available worldwide online — is entirely on recall and leash work, the foundational skills to equip you on your journey to a more relaxed, natural lifestyle with your canine companion.
A dark-haired woman stands in a clearing in Hampstead Heath Park in London, United Kingdom. Next to her on either side are two large hairy sighthounds, a Black and white Borzoi, and a gold and black Borzoi.
These are the skills that have changed my life, and they absolutely can change yours, if you have the desire and courage to break out of the box — and if you have a Borzoi, come on, have you ever really been satisfied with the ordinary anyway? ;)
