I’ve been holding my Dog Support sessions for over two weeks, and the trial period is over. I’m in. This is one of the things I should be doing. I’m meeting the most wonderful people, helping the neediest dogs, and sharpening my notions, experiences, and beliefs.

Prudence, above, is beginning to overcome her fear of people and walking around her kennel to check things out. She was a few hours away from being put to sleep.

Dog training is a morass of different philosophies, experiences, and approaches. Big Money is into big-time dog training – TV shows, expensive videos, and books, and some trainers now charge $175 a visit.  In Hollywood, every star has a people trainer and a dog trainer.

There is a lot we know about dogs and a lot we have yet to learn.

We’ve gone beyond anthropomorphizing our animals into a more profound emotional attachment realm; training and living with dogs has become more complicated, confusing, and expensive.

That’s a shame. It should be easier to train an animal than a surrogate child, family member, animal support system, or rescued and abused creature to save.

Dogs have woven themselves into the deepest corners of our emotional lives, and that is the Elephant In The Room of so many dog problems. Dog owners are suffering guilt, anxiety, and the most intense grieving.

It’s no longer simple, cheap, or easy to get a dog. Getting a dog from a good breeder is getting tough; dealing with a rescue group can be even worse. And more and more expensive.

One idea that keeps cropping in my head and has worked for me is self-awareness and self-trust. Put aside what Cesar says, or trainers say, or books and videos say, and focus instead on you and your dog and the life you wish to lead with them, rescue or purebred or shelter.

I believe that, in many cases, your dog will figure things out and learn how to live with you.

Some training is essential, but it’s not the whole point. Rescue dogs can be challenging because we often don’t know what has happened to them to shape their behaviors. Rescue can also be a wonderful experience.

Prepare to work hard at it.

Anyone who tells you there is only one way to get a dog is a fool and no friend to you or dogs. There are many ways to get a dog; the more we think about it, the better the odds of getting the right dog for us. The best way to get a dog is to get the right one for your and your family.

Unfortunately, that takes some real work and time. People who pop by a rescue group, have a tall fence, make a lot of money, and take the dog home because it was cute are asking for it.

I have no training books or videos; I start with the premise that I am wiser than my dogs (this has not always proven true) and can figure things out—most of the time, I have.

I don’t want other people’s profitable ideas too much in my head, although there are some excellent trainers with essential things to say. I’ve worked with a couple.

But the best work I have done is the work I have done myself with the dog I know better than anyone.

I believe strongly in letting dogs be dogs.

In figuring out what they love and what works for them positively and lovingly,  combining this knowledge with what I want and what works for me. It’s a partnership, not a human-child adoption. Dogs are happiest and safest when they know the rules and are loved, fed, and given a chance to be dogs.

They will never be perfect children. Neither will children.

A part of this is knowing what I want, but a more significant factor is letting the dogs figure some things out for themselves. My time with the Amish and some farmers has brought me in touch with some of the most beautiful, loving, and obedient dogs I have ever seen. And they are not trained in the expensive, neurotic, and frantic American way.

The Amish are often criticized for abusing animals; I’ve not seen that in the Amish who live here. I am in awe of how well-trained their horses and dogs are. I’ve learned a great deal from them. In the purest sense, they let their dogs be dogs.

To the extent possible, their animals are given a chance to be themselves and figure out how to live with their people. From the minute most Americans get a dog, the dog is bombarded with commands, devices, special foods, expensive toys, presumptions, gimmicks, perfect dog expectations,  presumptions, anxious and frantic emotions, needs, and demands of humans.

Millions of Americans adopted a dog to keep them company during the pandemic.

We are a nation of ingrates.

Millions of dogs are now being returned to shelters and killed because the pandemic is ending, and they too often behave like dogs, not furbabies or children grateful to be adopted.

Cesar and many others make a  lot of money selling books by suggesting he knows the way to “The Perfect Dog.”

But if you’re not Cesar and don’t have a production staff, the odds are you can’t ever do what Cesar does. And perhaps you shouldn’t.

When push comes to shove with dogs, we have to be our own guru; there’s no substitute for it, no magical way.

No one can come down from the sky, wave a magic wand, and give you the dog you have always wanted. Only you can do it; no book on earth, video, or TV show can do it for you.

Cesar has a lot of good things to say, but I will never promise the perfect dog or even want to have it. The idea kills more dogs than all of the abusers combined.

Dogs are not precious kids going to Harvard or Yale. They are animals, much simpler and more primal than we know. They love the people who give them food and exercise and love them up once in a while.

It very often is not much more complicated than that.

Americans love to overthink the experience of getting a dog and underthink the work and thought it takes to have the right one in the family. They are reluctant to accept them and give them the time and opportunity to be the dog they really want, if they really want one at all.

And many run away when there is trouble.

Having the right dog takes a fair amount of work, patience, love, listening, and learning. There is a deeply spiritual element to it.

I believe that most dogs want to work their way into the lives of their humans, as my dogs have worked their way into mine. During every Zoom call, a dog is lying at my feet, that is Zinnia the yellow Lab. She will never move until I turn the computer off; she was never trained to do this.

This is what she realized is what I wanted and needed, and she is happy to serve, as most dogs are, given the time and the chance. Sadly, so few get the chance. She respects my need to work, and I respect her needs as a dog.

Respect and dignity is essential for both of us. We train to learn to live together in peace, love, and harmony.

Launching my Dog Support Program has brought dogs back to the fore of my consciousness, and my Zoom meetings have been excellent. We are getting good results. I very much enjoy doing it.

I’ll be writing about this more and more as the work progresses. I’m being roundly scolded for not being more businesslike and rigid about cost and payments. I’m sticking to $50 a half hour for now; in a month or so, I’m planning to jump to $65 for a half hour.

I won’t charge anyone for some phone calls or e-mail follow-ups.

If you are seeking or needing Dog Support, e-mail me [email protected]. I’ll take it from there.