How did you and your dog find each other?

I saw a man walking a golden retriever puppy a few blocks from my house when I was driving to the store. I stopped to let the gentleman know that a fox was walking around the neighborhood. I’m not in the habit of stopping strangers on the street. But I had seen the pair strolling before and thought it was essential to keep that cutie-pie puppy safe.

We started talking about Sammie, the puppy, and he said: “Do you want him?” He continued by sharing that his girlfriend and her kids loved him. But they weren’t home often, so they felt guilty about the extensive amount of time Sammie was alone and cooped up in his crate. While this may sound awful to die-hard dog lovers, they did love him and took excellent care of him. He was healthy and well-trained in obedience at just 4-1/2 months old! They knew their limits, and I was lucky to have landed my darling dog.

What’s the most significant assumption people make based on your dog’s looks?

He likes dogs! Sammie loves people and will do ANYTHING to be near a human being. But he has absolutely no interest in interacting in ANY way with neighborhood dogs. If another dog dares to sniff Sammie, he makes sure the dog understands his displeasure with a warning growl and lunge.

What personality trait does your dog possess that contradicts his or her physical appearance?

Sammie is a big golden retriever, so people cross the street when they see us coming. If they only knew, he wants to lick them from head to toe and lean in for a good petting session!

What are the biggest obstacles you and your dog have overcome together, and what was most helpful? 

I adopted Sammie when he was almost five months old. He was well-trained but not socialized at all (there’s a difference) and was fearful of other dogs. I shared my home with a 10-year-old Eskie mix and spent the necessary time and effort properly introducing my dogs. I wanted to make sure my home was peaceful, and my dogs were happy. But the sight of other dogs in the neighborhood turned Sammie into a barking, snarling, lunging lunatic.

The biggest obstacle came on walks with Sammie. If he saw a dog, he would bark and growl and lunge like a crazy boy! It took a lot to control him and get him to calm down even after the dog had passed us.

Enter Brandi and the “touch” cue. Redirecting Sammie’s focus from the dog to me using “touch” was a game-changer! Being the smart dog that he is and with Brandi’s fantastic guidance—it didn’t take long for both of us to enjoy our long walks.

If you could make a sign for the world to understand your dog’s individual needs better, what would it say?

All dogs stay away, PLEASE.

Anything else you want to share?

Sammie is almost 14 years young now. He’s no longer dog reactive. I still do “touch” with my sweet senior for mental stimulation. But now I only need to put my hand in a position for him to nose my fingers. He knows what I want, which is excellent because his hearing is starting to fade— unlike my love for him and his adoration for people.

***This article is a re-post from 2016, sweet Sammie has since passed away but I’m so grateful to have met him and his amazing mom.

My heart hurts when I read about violence, natural disasters, and strife affecting too many people around the world. I feel frivolous. I want to do more, give more, and be more to this world than what I’m doing now. I’m sad for so many people who abruptly and brutally lose their lives. And I’m sorry for those mourning their loved ones and those attempting to recover from destruction and deprivation.

I’m not a news or political expert. I’m just a dog trainer turned treat maker. But, when I close my laptop for the umpteenth time in a day because the hatred overwhelms me, I think about dogs, and why we love them—their presence, loyalty, and unconditional love. I can’t help but wonder if dogs might be able to teach us to be better humans.

Approach every moment with zeal

When Gavin plays fetch, he’s not thinking about what he’s eating for dinner, worrying about his next veterinary check-up, or wondering what time we’re leaving the park so he can wiggle and jiggle for my brother. Not much interrupts Gavin’s beauty rest, except when he hears the click of UNCLE CHRIS’s key in the door. No matter how deep he’s sleeping or loud he’s snore-humming, under the covers, Lil’ Big Head jumps into the air like a rocket, and races down the stairs as his tail whip-whaps the walls before he grabs a shoe and dances a circle around one of his most favorite humans.

Our dogs approach everything they love with all their heart, energy, and attention. Gavin exudes joy as he eagerly waits for me to throw his ball and sprints towards it with laser focus, then clumsily tries to grab the ball as it bounces off the swingset and catapults in the opposite direction. He’s incapable of reminiscing about a park we visited when he was a puppy and of planning for his future. Gavin’s smiling, running, and totally into his fetch game—that’s it.

If I watch the sunset without checking my phone, it won’t change the world. However, mentally oohing and ahhing about the beautiful horizon as it shifts from bursts of peach and turquoise to a watercolor masterpiece of deep lavender and magenta will bring me more peace than if I spent the same time scanning volatile debates on social media.

Be a shoulder

Dogs are always there, like a good friend who doesn’t just say “let me know if you need anything” but shows up on your doorstep, with a knowing look and a box of tissues. If I’m happy, confused, tired, or overwhelmed, Gavin is ready to lean on or be the leaner. Lil’ Big Head will soothe the worries of the world by lean-laying all 60 pounds of himself against any willing snuggler.

Gavin listens, without agenda, comment, opinion, answers, or judgment. As a dog, he can’t tell me I’m ludicrous when I’m babbling on about who knows what. However, maybe I’m meant to learn a lesson from his silence—to be a better listener—without chiming in, without waiting my turn to speak, and without fixing (oh, we retired trainers love fixing stuff.)

Lil’ Big Head inspires me to be the person who exudes Oprah Winfrey‘s famous phrase, “I see you. I hear you. And what you say matters to me.”

Practice kindness

When dogs scuffle, they’re quickly (usually) over their strife and onto more important matters like napping, eating, or playing. It’s easy to become preoccupied with the troubles of the world. However, if worry and stress consume us, we miss real opportunities to connect with our fellow humans, in real-life.

Holding the door open at the drugstore for a stranger or waving another driver in front of me while I wait in traffic certainly doesn’t undo catastrophic events but, it reminds me that we’re all in this together. And, when I have to decide whether to run to the grocery or, put it off another day and donate blood—I hope I make the right choice (however small).