Hey everyone,
Ready for a little walk down memory lane? Instead of one long winding road today, we're taking a stroll through a series of snapshots from my 5+ years as a dog trainer. Buckle up, because it was… well, let's just say it was an experience.
Chapter 1: The K-9 Yoda and the Bookstore Field Trip
My journey into the world of dog training began within the brightly lit aisles of a certain pet store – the same one where the legendary (in my mind, anyway) Store Manager Mike reigned supreme. But the real magic happened in the training corner, all thanks to my mentor.
She was a former K-9 officer, and let me tell you, she had that no-nonsense, seen-it-all aura. I soaked up every bit of her knowledge like a thirsty sponge. She was brilliant with dogs, a true master of her craft. But outside of the canine realm and her police days? Crickets. She was a fascinating enigma, a vault locked tight. Lunch breaks were solitary affairs for her; the breakroom was apparently a place to be avoided at all costs.
Rules, it turned out, were… flexible in her world, especially if it meant a better learning experience for her students. I vividly remember the day she announced, with a twinkle in her eye, that class was in session… at the bookstore next door. "Real-life practice," she declared, leading a pack of bewildered but excited owners and their pups through the fiction and non-fiction sections. The dogs, surprisingly, were mostly on their best behavior, sniffing politely at shelves while their humans navigated the aisles. Mike, our poor manager, however, was less than thrilled with this impromptu field trip.
It was under her guidance that I got my own furry business partner, Fay. My husband gifted me this adorable, fluffy Klee Kai puppy as an engagement present, and my mentor immediately saw her potential as my "demo dog." Fay was a natural, and by the time my mentor hung up her leash and retired, my little shadow knew over thirty commands and tricks. She was a fantastic saleswoman for my classes, even if she was starting to develop a serious aversion to the enthusiastic (and often grabby) little humans who frequented the store. Peace and quiet were becoming her favorite commands.
Chapter 2: Flying Solo and the "Submit!" Showdown
The day my mentor retired felt like a dog-eared page turning in my life. Suddenly, I was it – the sole dog trainer for the entire store. The workload ballooned. I was juggling register duty, shelf stocking, class sales, and, oh yeah, actually teaching the classes. Fay, bless her patient soul, became my constant companion, a furry anchor in the sea of retail chaos. Our bond deepened, and I think some pet parents found our connection a little… intense.
Then there was her. This one particular customer decided she, too, was a dog training guru. Her weapon of choice? The dramatic command. I’ll never forget the sheer audacity of it. In the middle of the training area, she bellowed "SUBMIT!" at her poor Australian Shepherd and physically forced him onto his side, where he lay, a picture of terrified compliance, belly exposed.
My jaw practically hit the floor. My brain short-circuited for a moment. What do you even say to that? In the end, all I could muster was a weak smile and the offer of a basic training pamphlet, while internally, I was drafting a strongly worded essay on humane training practices.
Chapter 3: Fay, the Flashcard Whiz
Despite the occasional human oddity, my training sessions with Fay continued to be a source of joy and wonder. Her intelligence was truly astounding. As the advanced tricks class rolled around, she became my star pupil, demonstrating feats that often left onlookers scratching their heads in disbelief.
We moved beyond the usual sit and stay. Fay learned to "paint" (holding a brush dipped in non-toxic paint and dabbing it on paper), tidy up her toys by putting them in a basket, and – my personal favorite – follow commands written on flashcards. No hand signals, no verbal cues, just the written word. The expressions on people's faces when they saw her "read" a command and then perform the action were priceless. It was like watching a magic trick, only the magic was pure canine brilliance.
Chapter 4: Climbing the Corporate Ladder (and Dodging Drama)
The lure of a bigger paycheck eventually pulled me away from the single-trainer life. I accepted a dog trainer manager position at a different pet store chain, tasked with building their training program from scratch.
Honestly, teaching the puppies before they even went home was the easy part. The real challenge lay in navigating the bizarre ecosystem of this new environment. Picture this: wealthy owners with more opinions than sense, and a sales team operating on pure commission. The puppy-selling floor was a high-stakes, low-ethics arena.
The stories from that time could fill a book on their own. Puppy counselors would poach clients mid-conversation, cussing matches weren't uncommon, and the general atmosphere was thick with competitive tension. One particularly memorable incident involved a puppy seller swooping in on a family who had a follow-up appointment with another counselor, all because they happened to walk in while the original seller was on a phone call. Commission trumps courtesy, apparently.
It was a wild ride, a constant source of "did that just happen?" moments. My strategy? Stay out of the fray, focus on the dogs, and try to provide some semblance of calm amidst the storm. Sometimes, the sheer absurdity of it all was almost funny. Almost.
So there you have it – a little peek behind the curtain of my dog training days. From the quirky wisdom of my mentor to the outright weirdness of some of the humans I encountered, it was a formative and often hilarious chapter. Stay tuned for more HOP Stories, and if you haven’t read my other ones, go check them out!
RIP Fay, forever my smart, sassy, beautiful friend.
Share this post