It was July 2020 when Parker came into our lives. She was an 8-week old black Labrador Retriever puppy, calm and sweet with big brown eyes and a little pink tongue that stuck out from the front of her little mouth when she was excited. We drove her home from my in-laws small town in Ohio to our apartment in Philadelphia. She slept the whole way in my lap. It was all my dreams of puppy ownership come true. Little did we know that we would need a dog trainer shortly.
Then Things Took a Turn…
A month later, those idyllic first 24 hours felt like a distant memory. After an initial few days getting used to her new surroundings. Parker’s quiet personality had fallen away to reveal a curious, rambunctious little monster with a big personality and a penchant for nibbling on anything and everything that came within a few feet of her little chompers. All of which we had expected—she was a Labrador, after all, a notoriously mouthy breed that needed a significant amount of exercise.
What we didn’t expect, however, was how headstrong she’d be on her leash. No matter what direction we tried to lead her, she wanted to go the other way, constantly zigzagging across the sidewalk. She’d pull, and sniff, and sometimes sit down just because she didn’t feel like walking anymore. And there I’d be, feeling like a terrible pet parent, gently tugging and trying to coax her to follow me with high-value treats to no avail.
Time For Some Much Needed Research When Finding a Dog Trainer
Suffice it to say, I was frustrated. So, as a proudly self-sufficient adult, I researched. I watched YouTube videos, I read articles, I even found myself on Reddit once or twice reading horror stories of what could happen if you didn’t properly train your dog to walk on leash. My head spun with tips and tricks, timelines and expectations for where Parker was supposed to be, developmentally speaking.
It was all too much. But I was determined not to ask for help—I could do this on my own. “People have raised puppies for thousands of years,” I would tell myself. “There’s no reason you should need professional intervention.” Two weeks later, my husband came home from work to find me melting down outside our building with Parker sitting quietly on her leash. He found the number for a local dog trainer and scheduled us for an introductory session the next day.
Meeting The Dog Trainer
We met in a nearby park at noon. Parker and I took almost half an hour to walk the three blocks to get there. My exasperation must have been visible because, right as we got there, the trainer put a hand on my shoulder and said reassuringly, “You’re doing great.” I almost cried right then.
The session, though only an hour long, was helpful to say the least. She started by assessing where we were in our training and teaching us a few exercises to help move things in the right direction. She focused on basic recall training, which she explained was vital for keeping a dog safe while out in public, and “leave it,” since Parker was so keen on lunging for sidewalk sticks and chicken bones. She spent the rest of the session practicing with us to make sure we were reinforcing the right behaviors.
Be Patient and Positive!
The most important lesson she taught me, however, wasn’t an exercise or a cue. It was that I needed to trust my instincts. She explained that I was right, that people had done this for centuries, and I wasn’t going to break Parker by making a mistake every once in a while. As long as I’m patient and loving—and understand that she’s a dog with limitations of her own—it’s all going to be okay in the end. Just breathe and keep moving forward.
I truly cannot overstate the value of a professional telling you that you’re doing great. That you haven’t failed. That whatever you’re facing is normal and natural and perfectly fine. If only to hear those words, I’d hire a trainer again in a heartbeat. If you’re feeling the way I was, I’d encourage you to do the same.
A year later and Parker’s still working on walking on a leash. She may never get it exactly right. But I’m no longer breaking down on the sidewalk. I just take my time and encourage her in the ways I can. Because that’s all I can do. And that’s okay.
