July 31, 2010 – Frieda and I have been working together for a year or so now, and I am just beginning to grasp what a working dog she is. I looked up in the woods today while walking with Maria and the dogs and I saw a patch of light shooting through the deep woods. I said “Frieda, get up there and sit in the light,” knowing she does not know those words. Yet she ran up and sat in the light and in her most regal Frieda-esque post.

I know that Frieda did not understand my command, yet I also knew she grasped what I wanted, as we have taken many photos together. And she is a bright and intuitive dog. This is the mystical, even spiritual part of training a dog for me. The end result of daily calming and obedience training and work – lies, sit down, stays – quiet time together is an awesome ability to communicate. This is the core of training, a language with which to really communicate with the dog.

This requires that you understand the true nature of the dog, at least for me – Frieda is an animal, not a renegade child. She understands some things, needs clear and consistent direction. She fails, she succeeds. When she fails, we just do it again. And again. And again. Until she succeeds and can be rewarded. I respect her instincts and her identity as an animal. She is not my child. She does not think in human language. She can read my emotions but understands little about me or my life, except for what I show her and communicate to her. This training is not about obedience. It is the most sacred part of having a dog, the mystical space in which we meet and communicate with one another. Frieda has been trained a bit every day for nearly two years. It will never stop.

She is learning the one things dogs almost never know how to, but which is essential to their living with us: to do nothing.