Beyond Treats - ebook

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FOREWORD

With over 40 years as a dog trainer, I've observed a concerning rise in dogs being euthanised, often as a result of the shortcomings of exclusively positive, treat-based training methods. George's book emerges as a much-needed voice of reason in the dog training arena. It's not only insightful but also easily relatable. I strongly recommend this book to anyone looking to enhance their bond with their dogs without an excessive dependence on treats.
– Gaz Jackson - Author

I have just finished reading your book and it is amazing!!!!! I honestly could not put the book down at all. I loved the summaries at the end of every chapter. It's definitely a book I will cherish with me forever and will continue to recommend to friends and family. It's extremely insightful and I am privileged to be able to have the opportunity to read such a profound book. Thank you for writing a masterpiece! 💖
– Eve S

I highly recommend anyone who has or is thinking of getting a dog to read this very informative story about dog behaviour. George explains in plain English how to solve all kinds of annoying dog behaviours in simple ways. He explains why a dog may do certain things and how to change it. He understands dogs and how to help both owner and dogs create a mutually beneficial relationship. This is a must read for all dog lovers young and old to improve our relationships with our wonderful companions.
– Virginia H

"Beyond Treats" is very well written. It not only has a story line to keep the reader interested but is an excellent training tool. It emphasises the importance of leadership, patience and consistency which are so vital in training any dog.

George Tran's wealth of knowledge is evident throughout the book. It is such an easy read. I would recommend it to anyone wanting a well behaved pup.
– Kerry W

Wow. What can I say.... Amazing springs to mind.

I have just finished your book. It is so user friendly and easy to read, fabulous philosophy around dog training and fantastic tips. You love of dogs certainly shines through.
- Julie C

WHY READ THIS BOOK?

If you are struggling with your dog’s behaviour or simply want to strengthen the bond you share, “Beyond Treats” is the guide you need. This book was born out of my frustration with seeing so many dogs put down because of bad advice and misguided training methods. With over a decade of hands-on experience, I have developed a unique, leadership-based approach that empowers dog owners to establish clear communication and boundaries—without relying on treats, fear, or force. The methods I share are field-tested, battle-tested, and proven to work. These are not just theories from a university white paper; they are real solutions that have helped countless families regain harmony in their homes. Are you frustrated with your dog’s behaviour? Confused by the conflicting information offered online? Tired of your dog not being obedient and fed up with constantly bribing them with treats for every little command?

I became a behaviourist because I got sick of seeing so many dogs getting put down due to bad advice, even from so-called professional dog trainers. Dog owners are often given conflicting advice from people with certain agendas rather than genuinely helping them and their dogs. It became my mission to help families and save dogs by educating people. There are those who believe in the old-school dominance-based style of training, where violence, fear, and threats are used to exact compliance. And there are those who believe that saying no to a dog is tantamount to abuse. No wonder dog owners are confused. My desire is to inspire you to be better and show you a better way to lead your dog.

If you’re exhausted from trying every tip and trick, yet still feel like you’re missing something, you’re not alone. Many dog owners struggle with the same challenges—feeling overwhelmed, discouraged, and sometimes even hopeless. But what if there was a way to truly connect with your dog, to understand their needs, and to guide them without relying on constant rewards?

Are you ready to embark on a journey into the heart of dog behaviour? This book isn’t just another training guide—it’s your solution to cutting through the noise of conflicting dog training advice and finding a clear path towards understanding and harmony. What if you could have a practical, proven method developed from over a decade of real-life experience with more than 1000 dogs? Would you be interested in discovering how to finally guide your dog effectively without relying on constant treats?

Imagine if you could be the leader your dog needs—a guide that provides clear direction, much like a caring parent. With the right leadership, unwanted behaviours can be turned around quickly and easily, and this is exactly what you’ll learn in this story-driven book.

This book offers a profound shift from a treat-based mercenary framework to a leadership-based approach. Instead of bribing your dog with treats, you’ll tap into their intrinsic desire to please—a desire much like a child wanting to gain their parents’ approval. Are you ready to activate that connection and achieve true harmony with your dog?

You’ll follow Emily, a fictional dog owner at her wits’ end with a dog that society had given up on. Through her story, you’ll see the world of dog behaviour differently. You’ll learn about the science behind every growl, bark, and wagging tail—and discover how understanding this science can help you transform your dog’s behaviour.

This isn’t about quick fixes or miracle cures. It’s about a fundamental shift in how we view our canine companions. It’s about moving away from outdated, harmful training methods and embracing a new, practical approach without the need for constant treats. Most of all, it’s about opening your heart and mind to truly understand your dog, helping them become the best version of themselves.

In “Beyond Treats,” I share practical strategies to solve behavioural issues, drawing from my years of experience helping over a thousand dogs. My mission has always been about saving lives—dog lives do matter. Dog rescues are the people at the forefront of saving dogs; they are the true unsung heroes of the dog world. They are always the first people to go to when someone needs to surrender a dog, and the last to receive any financial support for things like vet bills. Yet often, there is never enough money to go around. This is why a portion of the proceeds from this book and venture goes to helping dog rescues around the world. My mission is also to provide a balanced approach that respects both you and your dog, fostering a fulfilling relationship without relying on outdated dominance or excessive permissiveness.

As someone who is often recommended by vets across Australia for clients considering euthanasia, I know how vital it is to provide the right support before it’s too late. I have spoken at many dog events, sharing my insights and advocating for a compassionate, informed approach to dog training. Through my book, public speaking, and ongoing advocacy, I am working to change the narrative around dog behaviour, helping owners understand that their dogs’ issues can be resolved without resorting to medication or surrender.

If you like the work that I do, I invite you to join my crusade. Please, tell others about my book and my mission. I can’t do this alone. Ultimately, dogs don’t have a voice—together, we can help give voice to the voiceless and show people a better way to relate to their dogs. Pick up “Beyond Treats” today, and let’s make a difference—one dog, one family at a time.

Are you ready to uncover the truth about dog training? Are you ready to transform not only your dog’s behaviour but also your own mindset? If so, then let’s begin. This journey may not always be easy, but I promise you, it will be worth it.

George Tran Dog Behaviourist3

PREFACE

Quitting my job to save dogs was the best thing I ever did. My name is Emily. For years, my life was on what felt like a never-ending treadmill. Every day was a repetition of the last – the same complaints, the same thankless work. I was a store manager at a major grocery retailer, a job that I had come to loathe. It paid the bills, and for a long time, that had been enough.

Then, one day, I met him. He was strong, handsome, and intelligent. His unwavering loyalty was endearing, and I found solace in his quiet company during those cold winter months. He was everything a girl could ever dream of.

His name was Buddy, my mix-breed mutt. He wasn’t just a dog, he was my dog– a living, breathing symbol of my decision to finally break free from my monotonous life and pursue my dream of working with dogs.

This is our story, a story about more than just dog training, it’s about the power of change and the journey toward self-discovery; it’s a story about stepping out of the comfort zone and embracing the unpredictable; about finding love where you least expect it, and about the incredible bond between a human and her dog.

So, if you’ve ever felt stuck, ever felt the urge to break out of your shell and follow your passion, or if you simply love dogs as much as I do, then this story is for you. Join me and Buddy as we navigate the ups and downs of dog behaviour and discover, along the way, that sometimes, the biggest transformations come on four legs.5

I QUIT!

They say that you die spiritually at twenty-five and your body just takes the rest of your days to finish the job. It happened to me. I had given up hope, just living on autopilot. I was a zombie, merely going through the motions.

At six in the morning, my alarm jolted me awake with the strains of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believin’.’ My day had begun. Again. I dragged myself out of bed, dressed, and prepared to face another day of monotony, to deal with thankless, rude, and angry customers.

As a child, having a dog was out of the question. My mother forbade it. ‘When you can look after yourself, only then can you consider bringing a child or a dog into this house,’ she’d firmly stated.

My mother, hardened by life, and I, the dreamer, rarely saw eye to eye. Once I graduated, I moved from one job to another, each one more uninspiring than the last. When I met Ryan, I was young and naive - young and stupid more like. Ryan was everything I thought I wanted: cocky, confident, flashy, and I thought he wanted me. More precisely, he wanted a maid.

His controlling nature slowly morphed into abuse and, when I tried to break free, it only got worse. Yes, hindsight is twenty/twenty, and I learned that lesson the hard way.

As I drove to work, the lyrics of ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ echoed through my mind, refusing to be silenced. At a red light, I found myself humming along, lost in the melody when it occurred to me, when did I stop believing?

When did I stop believing in my dreams, in my potential? When did I let the dreams of that innocent, hopeful girl be replaced by the harsh realities of my dull, uninspiring life? This wasn’t how I envisioned my life at twenty-nine.

In that moment, sitting in my car, the traffic lights blinking in the early morning haze, I felt a deep, resounding frustration. My life was a series of compromises, decisions made out of necessity rather than desire.

‘I hate my life,’ I thought. The words hit me with a surprising intensity. The routine, the monotony, the endless cycle of dissatisfaction – I was done with it all. Adulting, as it happened, really sucks. This veil of discontent enveloped me as I parked and headed into the store.

Later, as I was instructing one of my staff about restocking, I heard a shrill, “I want to talk to your manager!” I inhaled deeply, pasted a pleasant expression onto my face, and approached the dissatisfied customer. I politely inquired, “I’m the manager here. How may I help you?”

The customer, a short, prim and proper woman with a seriously starched 1960s hairdo, seething with anger, thrust an empty soup container in my direction, and demanded a refund. She had bought it from our store and claimed to have found a hair at the bottom of her bowl as she was finished her meal.

I calmly and professionally explained our company refund policy to her. Unfortunately, we couldn’t issue a refund since she had already consumed the soup. Her reaction to this was less than pleasant.

With a look of disgust, a scream of frustration, she, to my shock, flung the empty container at my face and stormed off.

It was then that something inside me snapped. “I’m so done.” That was the day I handed in my two-week notice.

As the days of that fortnight crawled by, ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ played on an endless loop in my head. Perhaps it was a sign of good things to come.

In anticipation of my last day, I spent my evenings curled on the lounge binge-watching videos and dreaming of my next career move. Somehow, I found myself deep-diving into dog training videos. I was fascinated by the technique of positive only training. It was touted as the latest, science-backed approach to dog training. It had to be good, right? So, I dove in and absorbed as much as I could, enveloping myself in a world that had always fascinated me. The stress of the upcoming last day was starting to ebb, replaced by a cautious hope. I had forgotten what that felt like.

In my quest for knowledge, I stumbled upon a dog behaviourist based in Sydney, Australia named George Tran. He had worked with thousands of clients struggling with dog behaviour issues, and his approach intrigued me. Rather than all-positive, his approach was leadership based training.

I followed George, learned about his work, his methods, and his philosophy. I followed his social media platforms, watched so many of his videos, and read about his success in training and rehabilitating dogs, even those with extreme behaviour issues. It was inspiring. His teachings began to reshape my understanding of dogs and natural dog behaviour. I began to feel something I’d been missing for a while – excitement, and a sense of purpose.

As I immersed myself in the world of dogs, I began following several dog rescue groups. To my dismay, I found the reality heartbreaking. Every rescue was overwhelmed, struggling to accommodate more dogs. The recent pandemic had led to a surge in dog adoptions as people sought companionship during isolation. But as society returned to normal, the pendulum swung the other way, with dogs being surrendered at an alarming rate.

This tragic situation has been exacerbated by the ongoing housing crisis. With inflation soaring and interest rates climbing, many people have been forced to downsize or move in with family, often at the expense of their dogs. As a result, thousands of dogs are being surrendered or euthanised.

What struck me as even more disturbing was the underlying cause of many of these surrenders: behavioural issues. Unsocialised ‘pandemic puppies’ struggled with problems like barking and leash reactivity, making them difficult to rehome. Sadly, most people are unaware that dog behaviourists even exist. When they encounter behaviour issues, their first instinct is to consult a vet, who often diagnoses these problems as anxiety and prescribes anti-anxiety drugs. This is like going to an electrician for a plumbing problem. The result is a population of unruly, untrained, and over medicated dogs, whose issues could have been addressed with the right behavioural guidance.

The enormity of the problem is overwhelming, but it has only strengthened my resolve. I am determined to learn everything I can about dog behaviour and training so that, in my own small way, I can make a difference.7

THE APPRENTICESHIP

The next morning, my alarm sang ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ at the rude and unnecessary hour of six in the morning. I reminded myself that I was no longer working and didn’t need the early morning wake-up call. Exhausted and feeling defeated, I dragged myself out of bed, brewed some coffee, and tried to gather my thoughts while making breakfast.

My mind kept circling back to Buddy. I knew I could train him if given the chance. While George seemed amenable to sponsor Buddy’s release, my big challenge was coming up with the money for the necessary apprenticeship and Buddy’s adoption fee. George was an extremely busy person, and it was unreasonable to expect him to train me for free, yet I had wracked my brains late into the night as to a source of funding, to no avail. Getting a credit card or a loan was out of the question, given that I had just quit my job.

After a second cup of coffee – for valour – I checked my email to see if any of the leads I had pursued came through. I quickly clicked on the message from Jan from Pound Jailbreakers. She had spoken to her benefactor friend about my situation, and he was considering helping. She said she’d let me know. That was a thread of hope, albeit a thin one.

Rather than continue to obsess over my inbox, I decided to catch up with Sally, an old friend who’d recently adopted a puppy. We hadn’t hung out as much as we used to, everyone’s lives seem to be on fast forward these days.

I arrived at the café a tad early, so I checked my social media feed while awaiting Sally. To my surprise, my post about Buddy had garnered quite a bit of attention. The flurry of supportive comments and number of shared posts gave me a glimmer of hope.

It was a blissful relief from my worries to chat and laugh with Sally over lunch. We had been friends since school and, though we rarely had time to physically see each other, ours was a relationship that immediately picked up from where we left off, like no time had passed. The biggest addition to Sally’s life was her recently adopted baby cavoodle, Benji. He was a wild, excitable, fluffy bundle of chocolate covered espresso beans with golden eyes. She was completely smitten with her naughty little pup.

“I’ve spent the money on a series of obedience classes for Benji. I just wish they were helping more. We go every week, and he’s just as naughty as ever. I hope he grows out of it. He still tears the cushions, digs the garden, and he’s a bit of an embarrassment on the leash. That’s why I left him at home today. He barks at everything, and he just exhausts me. They told me to give him treats when he’s a good boy, and if he doesn’t listen, to wave the treat in front of his face to distract him.,” she relayed sadly.

“I’m so sorry, Sally. It sounds like the classes aren’t working, and that’s frustrating. How are they telling you to handle Benji?”

Sally took a deep breath before diving into the details. “The trainer is all about the treats-only approach. They said it’s the latest scientific method, developed by researchers from top universities. The idea is that you never say ‘no’ to a dog. According to them, there’s absolutely no need to correct a dog, even if they misbehave. Instead, you just use treats and positive reinforcements to reward the behaviour you want, like when they stop misbehaving and turning your back or ignoring the inappropriate behaviour. It’s kind of like the gentle parenting approach, but for dogs. The problem is, if the dog is bouncing off the walls and always into mischief, there’s rarely a ‘correct behaviour’ moment for me to reward.

“When I confronted the trainer with my concerns,” Sally continued, “He assured me Benji would come around, and I needed patience. I told him that we had dogs when I was a kid and that my parents disciplined them just like they disciplined me and he recoiled. Truly, the man gasped aloud and clutched his chest!” Sally mimicked the gesture and we both giggled.

“Wow!?!?” I grinned.

“I know, right? It was a good thing I was too gobsmacked to laugh right then. With his hand still over his heart, he launched into dire warnings about people who discipline their dogs. He was quite adamant that training methods involving discipline and corrections will lead to fearful, shut down dogs.

“When I told him that my parents’ older dogs often were the ones that kept the newest additions in line, he shook his head vehemently and explained that the latest science has debunked the effectiveness of ‘pack training.’ He said it was an outdated model. He insisted that positive reinforcement and treats were the only way to go. It may take a few years for Benji to truly listen and respond, and I may have to offer ever increasingly delightful treats, yet he insisted it would eventually work.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “So, the thousands of years of dogs raising and training their own is wrong? How can that be scientifically proven? And more delightful treats? Are you meant to roast pheasant and potatoes for the dog?”

Sally sighed, “I’m losing faith, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I feel ya,” I consoled. “I’ve had my own frustrations centred around a dog.”

I told Sally about Buddy’s situation and my dream of becoming George’s apprentice. I explained my intentions to save Buddy and all the challenges that came with it.

Sally was enthusiastic about my plan, offering much-needed emotional support that was far more encouraging than my mother’s reaction. After lunch, Sally suggested we pick up Benji from her house and allow him to expend some energy at the local dog park. I waited in the car while Sally ran into the house and was dragged out by Benji. We fastened his harness into the backseat and drove to the park.

Benji, cute as a button, was off the charts excited. About everything. Chocolate covered espresso beans packed less energy than this little cavoodle. When Sally released him from his leash, Benji bound into the park. He was a whirlwind of excitement running and jumping on other dogs. I noticed he seemed to be bothering a German Shepherd who appeared uninterested in play. Benji dodged in and out of the shepherd’s space, barking and wagging his tail like mad. Eventually, the shepherd had enough of Benji’s antics. He pinned Benji to the ground, growling loudly and showing his teeth.

We both dashed over, anticipating a potential fight. By the time we reached them, the dogs had already gone their separate ways. Sally looked quite upset, believing her dog had been attacked.

Benji was physically fine and even seemed a bit more reserved. He sat calmly by Sally’s side while she fussed over him. He was, for a change, being a good boy.

“Sally,” I offered, “That wasn’t an attack. That was a warning. Don’t you see? Benji was being a nuisance. He wouldn’t leave the German Shepherd alone, so the shepherd responded forcefully. Did you notice that they both simply walked away afterwards? And Benji has been calm and well adjusted since. I think that the German Shepherd was teaching Benji how to behave more appropriately.”

Sally was startled by my observation and paused. “I hadn’t considered it from that angle.”

“Could it be that dogs are actually better at training each other naturally than scientists with degrees?” I wondered aloud.

~~~

The incident at the dog park with the German Shepherd and Benji continued to replay in my mind. Dogs have their own language, their own way of communicating. They don’t have words, and they certainly don’t have treats to reward each other for good behaviour. So, how do they set boundaries? How do they correct each other?

I closed my eyes and imagined myself as a dog, trying to communicate with another dog that was bothering me. At first, I’d probably try to move away, hoping the other dog would take the hint. But what if it didn’t? What if it kept coming at me, ignoring my signals of discomfort?

I’d probably growl, a low rumble from deep within, a clearer warning. If that didn’t work, I’d show my teeth, curling my lips to display my displeasure. It’s not about aggression, it’s about setting boundaries. And if all else failed? I’d probably snap or pin the other dog, much like I’d shove away someone who was invading my personal space. It’s a last resort, the ultimate, unmistakable message that enforces, “Enough is enough. Back off!”

I opened my eyes and realised that this was precisely what the German Shepherd had done with Benji. It wasn’t an act of aggression, it was a more emphatic form of communication. The Shepherd had tried to avoid Benji, and had given him signals to back off, but Benji, in his puppy enthusiasm, had missed those cues. The pinning was the Shepherd’s last resort, his way of saying, “Respect my space.”

I began to wonder about all the times we must misinterpret dogs’ actions, labelling them as aggressive or problematic when they were merely trying to communicate in the only way they know how. If we took the time to understand their language, to see the world from their perspective, perhaps we’d have fewer misunderstandings and a deeper bond with our canine companions. If I invited someone from a foreign culture to live with me, I’d certainly make the effort to understand their ways of communicating. Dogs deserve the same effort.

This revelation added fuel to my efforts to rescue Buddy. Every passing hour amplified the urgency of his situation, every tick of the clock was a reminder of the limited time Buddy had left. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, those soulful eyes that appealed for a chance at life.

George’s words echoed in my mind. His facility was full, and he couldn’t take Buddy. The thought of joining George’s program was a goal, yet my financial constraints made it an impossibility in the moment. I felt trapped, caught in a situation where every door seemed to be closed to me, and poor Buddy was on the other side of those doors.

I paced around my living room, wracking my brain for a solution. I couldn’t bear the thought of Buddy spending another night in the pound, especially knowing that his days were numbered. The reality of the situation was harsh. Pounds and rescues were overflowing, and finding someone willing to take in a dog, especially one with Buddy’s reputation, was a daunting task.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Panicking and wearing a path in my carpet wouldn’t help Buddy. I needed to be proactive, to find a solution, no matter how impossible it seemed.

I grabbed my laptop and began researching. There had to be other rescue organisations, maybe even private individuals, looking to adopt or foster a dog. I spent hours sending out emails, making calls, and reaching out to anyone who might be able to help.

As the evening wore on, my efforts seemed fruitless. Most organisations were full, and those that had space were hesitant to take in a dog like Buddy. I decided to leverage social media, creating another heartfelt post about Buddy’s situation, complete with pictures and a detailed account of his story. I pleaded for help, asked for shares, contacts, or any leads that might help me save Buddy.

The outpouring of support from the online community was nothing short of amazing. My phone buzzed with notifications, each chime was a sparkle of hope. The post had gone viral, and the sheer number of shares was a testament to the compassion of strangers. Messages flooded my inbox, each one a mix of encouragement, offers of assistance, and potential leads.

Among the sea of messages, there were those who generously offered to contribute financially to Buddy’s cause. Their kindness was overwhelming, and I was deeply moved by their willingness to help a dog they had never met. Others sent information about potential foster homes or rescues that might be willing to take Buddy in, even if it was just temporary.

Amidst the hope, a looming reality shadowed; finding a foster home for Buddy was just one piece of the puzzle. Without a sponsor, be it a rescue organisation or a behaviourist, Buddy’s fate remained uncertain. The Pound was unable to release Buddy to just anyone because of his failed assessment. Time was not on my side.

The next morning, with a knot in my stomach, I dialled the Pound’s number. The voice on the other end confirmed my worst fears: Buddy was scheduled for euthanasia the following day. The finality of it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I struggled to hold back tears.

In a last-ditch effort, I called my mother, hoping against hope that she might be willing to lend me the money to sponsor Buddy myself. Her response was a cold splash of reality. “Honey, you can’t save them all,” she pleaded, her voice though sympathetic, felt like a slap. “Why don’t you get another, less challenging dog?”

Her words stung. How could she not understand? This wasn’t just about a dog, this was about saving a life, a life that deserved a second chance. “I’m not trying to save them all, mum, I’m trying to save one very special soul. With a little luck, maybe Buddy and I can save each other. I’ve got to go. I have until tonight to find the money and figure out a sponsor.” I ended the call with mum and scrolled through social media and email responses, hunting for our miracle.

I felt cornered by circumstances beyond my control. I lacked the right resources, and the clock was ticking. Without a sponsor, Buddy was going to die tomorrow.

At 4pm, my phone suddenly buzzed. I pounced on it and was surprised to hear George Tran, the dog behaviourist, on the line. He explained that a benefactor had come forward, willing to cover the tuition fee for my apprenticeship. There were conditions, however. George would sponsor Buddy for me to adopt, and I’d have to waive any rights to sue the pound because of that failed assessment. George added that he couldn’t tell me who the benefactor was and that I’d still have to pay a small part of the fee as a way of having some skin in the game. If I was in, he’d call the Pound before they closed and tell them to cancel the euthanasia order for tomorrow morning. It was an eleventh hour save – talk about cutting it close!

I had given up on miracles, yet now, it seemed all my wishes were coming true. I agreed to the terms without hesitation, dashed over to George’s facility to sign all the necessary paperwork, and paid my portion of the apprenticeship fee. He told me he’d meet me at the Pound bright and early the next morning to pick up Buddy. I floated home on a cloud. We saved Buddy!8

THE JAILBREAK

At 6 am, the familiar strains of Don’t Stop Believin’ blared from my alarm, jolting me awake. The song had always held a special place in my heart, a reminder to never give up, no matter how bleak things seemed. Today, its lyrics felt more poignant than ever. I bounced out of bed, singing along with Journey, while I readied myself for the first day of my new life with Buddy.

At this time yesterday, I had been on the brink of despair, speeding toward the end of the road in my quest to save Buddy. Life is full of surprises when we least expect it. Against all odds, things had taken a miraculous turn. The past few days had felt like a dark corridor of closed doors. Today, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I was on my way to Buddy.

I arrived at the pound, still singing along with Don’t Stop Believin’ on repeat. George arrived a few minutes after me. He grabbed a leash from his car, greeted me warmly, and asked, “Are you ready?”

His quiet confidence and warm smile put me at ease. “I am beyond ready! I’m so grateful to you, thank you for this!”

“You’ll be doing all the work, I’m here to guide you. If you’re ready, let’s go fetch Buddy.”

We made our way to the Pound’s office where we signed a bunch of paperwork to release Buddy. We then proceeded to Buddy’s cell. George paused outside, taking a few moments to observe Buddy. His gaze was intense, focused, as if he was trying to read Buddy’s soul, to understand the fears and traumas that lay beneath the surface.

With a nod to himself, George entered the cell. He moved with a quiet confidence, pulling a slip lead from his pocket. Buddy, sensing George’s calm energy, didn’t resist or show any signs of aggression. Within moments, the lead was securely over Buddy’s head.

Without any fuss or drama, George led Buddy out of the cell, through the corridors of the pound, and into the daylight. Buddy walked beside him, calm and composed, as if he understood that this was the beginning of a new chapter in his life.

Together, we guided Buddy to George’s car where he was secured in a crate in the back for transport to my house. As I watched George interact with Buddy, a sense of gratitude washed over me.

I led the way and, when we arrived at my house, instead of leading Buddy inside, George started a peculiar dance with Buddy on the sidewalk out front. It was nothing like I’d ever seen. He would take a few steps, then turn around and let Buddy catch up. As Buddy approached, George would gently tug the leash, leading him in a different direction.

At first, Buddy was beyond excited, erratic, and full of energy from leaving the pound. But as George continued this dance, Buddy’s demeanour shifted. No longer was he overly playful and unruly; he slowed down, becoming more relaxed and submissive. Soon, George had Buddy walking beside him on a loose leash.

I was astounded. I turned to George, asking him to explain the strange dance.

“Welcome to your first lesson, Emily,” George announced. “This is known as a Leadership Walk. It’s the most crucial and foundational exercise that I teach all my apprentices and clients. For a dog like Buddy, it’s vital to establish a working relationship based on respect from the get-go. Many folks treat their dogs as equals, especially when they’ve just brought them home or if they’re rescues. They feel sorry for them, which is one of the biggest mistakes you can make.”

“George, I’m struggling to wrap my head around this,” I confessed. “I’ve always believed that every dog, especially those from shelters or rescues, deserve our utmost compassion. What’s the harm in treating them delicately? Isn’t love the foundation of our bond with them? After all, he’s been through so much. Every time I look at him, my heart aches, I feel an immense sense of empathy for him.”

“Love and empathy are vital, Emily,” George began, his voice gentle yet firm. “They’re not the only things dogs need, though. Dogs are like children. They need leadership and guidance, and it’s our responsibility to provide that for them.”

He leaned in slightly, emphasising his point. “While we can feel sorry for their pasts, it’s important to recognise that dogs, especially rescues like Buddy, thrive on structure and boundaries. They need to understand their place in the family like wolves know their place in a pack. When we treat them as our equals, it muddies the waters for them, leading to confusion and anxiety. They need a confident leader, someone they can trust and look up to to guide them.”

I recalled the story of Sally’s obedience trainer. “I heard that pack theory has been debunked?”

A knowing smile played on George’s lips. “That’s a common misconception,” he responded. “David Mech’s research on wolf behaviour, which forms the basis of the pack theory, has often been misinterpreted by trainers who heavily rely on just positive reinforcement. Mech himself has tried to rectify this misunderstanding. His theory has been manipulated to fit a certain narrative.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Think of it like a family. Suggesting that children don’t need guidance or discipline and should be treated as equals doesn’t work in a family dynamic. The same goes for a wolf pack.”

I absorbed his words, then ventured, “So, being a pet parent is more than just showering them with love and pity. It’s about parenting and guidance?”

George nodded affirmatively. “Exactly. Dogs, like Buddy, look to us for direction, much like children look to their parents. It’s essential to establish that leadership role from the start. In the canine world, there’s always a leader, or even several leaders. If you don’t assume that leadership role, Buddy might feel like he needs to step up. That can lead to unwanted behaviours like aggression or disobedience. We want Buddy to feel secure, knowing he’s the child in the household. You, as the parent, need to offer consistent and calm leadership.

“It’s about mutual respect and leadership. Buddy needs to understand where he stands in your household. It’s fundamental for a healthy relationship between you two. Many of my clients face challenges because they have a skewed relationship with their dog.”

I leaned back, processing this revelation. My previous understanding never emphasised the importance of respect or defining roles. And the newer positive training methods seemed to revolve around rewarding dogs with treats rather than strong leadership. Suddenly, everything started to click.

George took the time to guide me through a Leadership Walk and talked me through a few basics. The plan was to start my apprenticeship training Monday morning. Meanwhile, he sent me a series of videos to watch, and suggested that I crate Buddy at night and when I wasn’t around. “Since this was so last minute, I figured you wouldn’t have time to prepare for Buddy’s arrival. I’ve got a nice crate here for you to use,” he said as he pulled one out of his van.

“A crate? Is that really necessary? I mean, he just came from a restrictive cell in the Pound, I don’t want him to think that’s his life here, too.”

George offered a comforting smile, “There are many benefits to crate training. Firstly, we don’t know Buddy’s toilet habits, especially given he was a backyard dog, previously. Secondly, a crate, when properly introduced, is not a cage, it’s a sanctuary. A crate is a cosy den, like his own private bedroom. My dogs voluntarily retreat to their crates when they want some private time. And, thirdly, everything here is new for Buddy. He’s being thrust into a vast, unknown space, and that can be overwhelming for a dog. Nervous dogs can be destructive. We want to keep him safe and secure. A strong leader always provides safety and security, crate training is one of those ways.”

“The crate is a sacred space for Buddy, not a prison. I hadn’t thought of it like that, before.” I knelt beside Buddy and gave him a hug. “I’m so grateful, George, thank you!” Buddy licked my cheek and I laughed. “We may have to give you a bath, Buddy, you’re stinky.”

“I’d hold off on a bath, right now,” George cautioned. “Give him time to settle in, to recognise you as his leader, and to trust you, first. You might see it as an act of care, while for Buddy, it’s another layer of stress in an already unfamiliar setting. You’re still new to him. Let’s allow him some time to adjust and build trust.”

We set up Buddy’s crate in the living room. George showed me how to guide Buddy into the crate and some basic crate training techniques, reminding me to watch those videos for details. We also spoke about food and, since Buddy didn’t come with any kibble, I should just start him off with some nice raw mince and watch his bathroom habits.

“Let Buddy relax at home for the next few days,” he advised. “Avoid taking him out in public for now. Remember, he has been a backyard dog with very little public experience. I’m going to leave you this slip lead, just in case. We’ll fit him for a nice Martingale collar on Monday morning and we’ll go over all the protocols for walking and basic training then. Just keep it low key. Everything is new for him and we don’t know how he’ll react.

“Everything is explained in the videos I sent you. Please take the time to watch them, and let me know if you have any questions. I’ll always get back to you as soon as possible. Truly. Text me any time, and I’ll see you Monday at my facility.”

I walked George out to his van. He pulled out his phone and texted a link to me. “As well as those specific basic videos I sent you, I have given you access to my website at WWW.DOGLEADERSHIPACADEMY.COM, where you can just ask the system any questions and it will provide you the answers you need, immediately. I have filled it with all my specific dog training knowledge. It’s not just a knowledge base, it is fully interactive where you can talk to the system as if you are chatting to me. This way, you can access my videos and processes at any time for specific information without having to sit through hours of videos online or scanning through article after article. It’s a great way of finding something fast, especially if I’m unable to answer you if I’m working with a client.”

George stepped into his van, lowered the window, and added, “I have a full client schedule this weekend, yet I check my phone regularly. I am here for you, just give me a call or text if you have any questions. We’ll dive into your proper training Monday, just go slow with Buddy. Build trust and leadership, and reach out with questions. I’m very happy for you and Buddy.”

As George eased down the street, he waved out the window and shouted, “See you Monday!”

I watched George’s car disappear down the street and I felt suddenly alone. That was a lot of information. My knees felt a bit wobbly as I realised the responsibility for Buddy’s well-being now pressed heavily upon my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I turned, and walked into the house, toward Buddy. My Buddy.

The kitchen was a mess from our earlier discussions and the preparation of Buddy’s meal. I set about tidying up, wiping down the counters and washing the dishes. The rhythmic motion of scrubbing and rinsing was therapeutic, allowing me to process everything George had shared, and repeating it aloud, conversationally, with Buddy, also solidified it in my mind.

The kettle whistled, signalling that the water was to temperature. I brewed myself a cup of lavender tea, hoping it would help calm my nerves. Buddy watched me from the crate with curious eyes, his head tilting slightly as if trying to decipher my every move.

I leaned over, released Buddy, and shuttled him out back to relieve him. He spent some time sniffing the perimeter, and looking into the shrubs before finding a spot to pee. I escorted him inside, grabbed my tea, picked up a book from the coffee table, and settled onto the sofa. Buddy stood before me, with those big brown eyes full of hope. Grinning, I patted the cushion beside me and he eagerly jumped up beside me and nestled into the crook of my arm. With every gentle stroke of his fur and scratch behind his ears, I could feel him relax, his body melting into mine. I relaxed, too, thoroughly enjoying the weight of his head on my lap, his warm breath on my leg was so heart-warming. I cherished this quiet, bonding moment, and I posted several photos of gratitude and joy on several social media platforms and to all my friends.

As the evening wore on, the relaxing tea and cuddles worked their magic and my eyelids grew heavy. The day’s events had taken their toll, and I could feel sleep beckoning. Setting the book aside, I stretched and yawned, signalling to Buddy that it was bedtime.

After one final trip to the backyard, I stood by his crate and called, “Come on, Buddy. It’s bed time.” Buddy was reluctant. He walked back toward the sofa, his eyes pleading for a few more minutes of snuggle time. I tried to be firm, guiding him by the collar toward his crate. He hesitated, yet eventually settled in, albeit with a hint of reluctance.

“Goodnight, Buddy,” I whispered, covering him with a soft blanket, and closing the crate door. I shut off the lights and made my way upstairs, hoping for a peaceful night’s rest.

As I was on the brink of sleep, Buddy’s plaintive howl shattered the quiet. His distress echoed throughout the house, pulling at my heart. I tried to drown out the sound, recalling George’s counsel about giving Buddy time to adjust. As the minutes passed, and the howling increased, my anxiety heightened. His plaintive cries tore at my soul and troubled my mind not only for Buddy, but also for the potential disturbance to my neighbours.

Caught in a dilemma between comforting Buddy and maintaining boundaries, I grappled with my decision. In a moment of weakness, I opened his crate and allowed him to roam freely. Almost instantly, Buddy hopped onto the sofa, saving me the corner seat. I heaved a sigh and escorted him back outside to see if there was anything else he needed to do before bed. He poked around a bit, then sat on the patio looking at me.

“Okay, mister, we need some sleep. Let’s go to crate.” I guided Buddy back to the crate, fluffed his blanket, and shut the door. “Good night, sweet boy. Go to sleep.”

The tranquillity was fleeting. Buddy’s barking began anew, amplifying my concerns about the neighbours. Torn between his evident unease and my own fatigue, I permitted him to wander the house while I sought refuge in my bedroom, praying for a few hours of undisturbed sleep. We could start fresh tomorrow. I’ll watch all those videos and figure out this crate training situation in the morning.

Chapter Summary

In this chapter, we emphasise the profound impact even small donations can have on rescues, advocating for consistent contributions, even if minimal.

KEY CONCEPTS:

1. SUPPORTING RESCUES FINANCIALLY: Even a donation as small as $1 a week can make a difference. If many individuals contribute, the cumulative effect can be substantial, aiding in saving lives and providing for the dogs’ needs.
2. PROMOTION THROUGH SOCIAL MEDIA: Engaging with rescue posts by liking, commenting, and sharing can amplify their reach. This not only aids in the adoption of dogs but also prevents unnecessary euthanasia by raising awareness.
3. AVOIDING THE PITY TRAP: While compassion for rescue dogs is essential, pity can be detrimental. Overindulgence or lack of boundaries due to pity can lead to the Kindness Paradox, where short-term kindness results in long-term behavioural issues.
4. ESTABLISHING HIERARCHICAL RELATIONSHIPS: It’s crucial to define the nature of the relationship with the dog. The dog should understand its place in the family hierarchy, ensuring a functional and harmonious relationship.
5. AVOIDING DYSFUNCTIONAL DYNAMICS: Just as children shouldn’t dictate family decisions, dogs, even more so, shouldn’t be placed on an equal footing with humans in the household. This ensures balance and mutual respect.11

ALSO BY GEORGE TRAN

SPECIFIC BEHAVIOUR GUIDES:

We also offer detailed guides focused on solving specific dog behaviour issues. These guides provide you with detailed step by step instructions that are specific to your dog’s behaviour issues. Look for “The Leadership Guide Series” at your favourite online book retailer.

Some of our titles include:

THE DOG LEADERSHIP GUIDE TO TOILET TRAINING

THE DOG LEADERSHIP GUIDE TO LEASH PULLING

THE DOG LEADERSHIP GUIDE TO JUMPING ON PEOPLE

THE DOG LEADERSHIP GUIDE TO SEPARATION ANXIETY AND EXCESSIVE BARKING

THE DOG LEADERSHIP GUIDE TO DOG REACTIVITY

THE DOG LEADERSHIP GUIDE TO HUMAN AGGRESSION

AND MUCH MORE…

Whether you’re struggling with a specific issue or want to deepen your understanding of dog behaviour, these resources will give you the tools and knowledge to succeed.

Look for these books at your favourite online book retailer such as Amazon, Google, Apple, etc. Or come to www.dogleadershipacademy.com.