Dogma Training

Your reactive dog isn't just tired after a hard walk. They are exhausted.

Every outing is a threat assessment. Every sound, every movement, every unfamiliar thing has to be evaluated before it can be ignored. While your dog looks like they're just going for a walk, their brain is working at a level most people never see. And that kind of constant vigilance doesn't resolve with a good night's sleep.

The signs are easy to miss - a lowered threshold, an inability to settle, slower recovery after reactions, less interest in things they usually enjoy. These aren't behaviour problems. They're stress symptoms. And they're your dog telling you that their tank is empty.

You cannot train a dog out of exhaustion. You have to rest them out of it first.

👉 Swipe through for what's actually happening, what depletes them, and what helps fill the tank back up.

Two dogs. One home. It should feel harmonious but it doesn't always seem that way.

Adding a second dog changes your household in ways most owners don't expect. Resource guarding, mismatched play styles, tension at feeding time, one dog who needs more space than the other. All of these challenges don't mean your dogs are incompatible. They mean they need better understanding and management behind them.

Better Together: Building Harmony in Multi-Dog Households is an evening seminar led by Shelley Cherniawsky, our Director of Behaviour & Education, designed for anyone living with, or planning to welcome, more than one dog.

We'll cover how dogs build relationships with each other, how to spot early signs of tension before they escalate, successful introductions, canine communication, preventing conflict around resources, and how to support every dog as an individual while building a household that works for everyone.

You'll leave with practical strategies you can put to work immediately and the confidence to create a home where every dog truly thrives.

Owners only. No dogs attend. Bring your questions. 🐾

📅 Sunday, October 4th at 4:00 pm | Dogma Facility
💰 Free for members / $15 for non-members

Register and find out more at https://bit.ly/4h7znHh

For most of my journey, I built things on my own and my own way. That's been a theme throughout this series - the independence, the stubbornness, the refusal to wait for permission or validation from anyone.

And then Kris walked in.

He came in as a client with his two young pit bulls, Duke and Mya. Happy, social, endlessly charming dogs who became regulars at day school. A mutual friend mentioned he was interested in becoming a dog trainer and I had a moment of hesitation. A young guy, heavily tattooed, wanting to work with dogs. I'd seen that before and knew that it often meant a desire to be dominant, to be in control, and to use the kind of methods I had spent my career pushing back against.

And then I repeatedly watched him get on the floor with the dogs.

He rolled around with them, let them climb all over him, met every nervous dog at their level and waited for them to come to him. He was patient and the love for the dogs was incredible. I was wrong about my assumption and I am so glad I was.

He enrolled in . Somewhere between the classes and the bond we grew with our desire to provide the best for dogs, we fell in love. We got married in 2016 and this week we celebrate ten years.

Since then Kris has become our COO and is involved in every part of the business. He is the energetic and passionate presence that keeps everything running while I am doing everything else. He has a particular gift with dogs who are fearful of men by becoming the ultimate treat dispenser, waiting, letting them decide, and becoming their favourite person in the room every single time.

The team calls him Funcle Kris. Like the fun uncle. Because that's exactly what he is to every dog and every team member. He’s goofy, always generous, and always the favourite.

I spent a long time building something largely on my own. What I didn't expect was someone who wouldn't just stand beside me, but who would surge me forward, champion what we were building, and refuse to let me do it alone anymore.

Happy anniversary, Kris. The dogs love you more than me and I've made peace with that. ♥️🐾

Nobody warns you how hard the first week with a new puppy actually is. The crying at night, the biting, the accidents, the sleep deprivation that feels wildly disproportionate for an animal this small. And somewhere around 3am you start wondering if you've made a terrible mistake.

You haven't. But it helps to understand what your puppy is actually going through.

They are a baby. Literally. A very young animal who, just days ago, likely had their mom, their littermates, and every familiar smell and sound that told them the world was safe. Now they have none of it. The chaos isn't your puppy being difficult. It's your puppy adjusting to the biggest change of their life so far.

Calm, positive, and safe. That's your job this week. Everything else can wait.

Full guide at the link: https://bit.ly/3UW2HI5

I built Dogma around dogs. But I had to learn, slowly and often painfully, to listen to mine.

Guinniss never attended day school. I had built the facility to help more dogs like him, but I realized that it was my goal, not his. He enjoyed other dogs, but I knew the busyness would be difficult and that attendance would not benefit him. He was happier at home, enjoying outings with me, living life at his own pace. Letting go of what I wanted for him was the right thing to do.

Deja was different. She came with me often in the early days, helping shy small dogs settle, greeting everyone who came through the door, and enjoying her time there.

And then one morning she didn't want to come.

I encouraged her anyway. That morning she got cranky with another dog which was completely out of character. She was tired and less tolerant. And I hadn't listened.

I let her choose her days after that. As we got busier, she enjoyed it less. She got older. Playing all day stopped being something she wanted. I often use this analogy - imagine if we had to hang out with elementary school kids every day. We'd get tired and exasperated by the young ones' energy.

I mourned it. I felt guilty. And then I watched both of them flourish when I stopped deciding what success looked like for them and started listening to what they actually wanted.

Guinniss was often happiest at home. Deja joined me for events, classes, and short sessions at the facility. They participated in what they enjoyed.

I think about them when families are disappointed to hear that day school might not be the right fit for their dog. I understand that feeling deeply as I've lived it with my own. It's never easy to hear. But when we have that conversation, it comes from the same place it came from with Guinniss and Deja. We listen to what their dog is telling us, not what success should look like for them.

Not every dog thrives in daycare. Not every dog wants to be there every day. Listening to what a dog is telling you, even when it's not what you were hoping to hear, is always the right call.

They taught me that. I'm grateful every day that I eventually listened.