If you want to see what a real relationship with a dog looks like, forget the suburban obedience class. Look at two completely different worlds: working dogs with a job to do, and the dogs belonging to unhoused people.
Both expose the exact same truth about why modern dog training fails.
Look at the Working Dogs
Take a look at working dogs—Border Collies, Kelpies, or Australian Shepherds actually out on the land doing what they were bred to do. (If you want a masterclass, look up channels like seanthesheepman on YouTube; the content is incredible).
When you watch someone like Sean, what does he do differently? He treats his dogs like dogs. To do anything else is actually disrespectful to the dog. He loves them fiercely, he’s not going to let them get hurt, and because of that mutual trust, they clearly can’t wait to get out and work—to be Sean’s partner.
When you watch these working dogs, do you see neurotic pacing, barrier frustration, or dogs that need a shock collar to function? No.
Why? Because those dogs have purpose. Every single dog breed on Earth exists for a reason. When a dog is actually doing the job its biology was engineered for—with a handler who communicates through real environmental demands—the behavioral issues just melt away. They don’t need a treat pouch or a correctional tool because their needs are actually being met.
The Inconvenient Truth About Modern Life
Here is the fundamental problem: We don’t need the dog anymore in reality.
Our lives are too convenient now, and by comparison, the dog isn’t convenient anymore. But instead of adapting to that, we’ve flipped the script entirely: Instead of the dog fulfilling its purpose, the dog is now expected to fulfill our needs.
And that is not a partnership. That is a hostage situation.
Now, do I expect someone living in a suburban house to go buy a flock of sheep just because they own a Border Collie? Of course not. But we have to find real, artificial ways of fulfilling the dog’s needs and purpose without needing aversive tools that destroy the partnership.
Drive Outlets, Not Drill Sergeants
Most dog breeds have hardwired needs—like the deep, biological need to chase. And here’s a secret the training industry ignores: it’s not about the kill. It’s about the execution of the sequence.
You don’t need a heavy hand or a shock collar to satisfy that; you just need to understand drive outlets:
- Remote-controlled cars: Zero effort on the owner’s behalf, but maximum, joyful effort from the dog.
- A flirt pole: Quite literally the number one tool that saves pitbull lives—minimal physical input from the owner, maximum psychological and physical output from the dog.
These are just a couple of examples of how you work with the animal’s biology instead of beating it into submission.
The Homeless Person’s Dog Paradox
Then look at another phenomenon that often catches people’s attention: the dogs belonging to unhoused people.
Walk through any city, and you’ll notice it. People passing by will feel a quiet, heavy sense of envy: How is that dog sitting off-leash, completely tuned in, perfectly calm amidst city chaos, while my dog loses its mind behind a fence?
How is it that someone living on the street can have a wonderful, rock-solid dog without spending a dime on trainers, aversive gear, custom diets, or clicker timing?
The answer is simple: Their ego has been stripped away. And from a psychological perspective, that changes everything.
The Psychology of Ego and the “Project Dog”
For the average suburban owner, a dog is often treated as an extension of the ego—an accessory that has to reflect well on them to the neighbors. Every single misbehavior feels like a personal indictment of your character, which triggers defensiveness, anger, and a desperate need to control. You start projecting human moral judgments onto the animal, assuming they are being “stubborn” or “defiant” on purpose.
An unhoused person doesn’t have the luxury of ego or superficial status games. They aren’t worried about what the neighbors think, and they aren’t projecting human anxieties onto the animal.
Without the distraction of screens, schedules, and societal noise, they are in a state of radical presence. Dogs are absolute masters of reading micro-expressions and nervous systems. They calibrate instantly to a human who is calm, grounded, and entirely present.
Their bond isn’t a commercial transaction or a power struggle; it’s a raw, unvarnished partnership built on mutual survival and constant companionship. There are no dominance games when your relationship is your primary source of peace in a hard world.
Partners, Not Pets
It comes down to how you view the animal standing right next to you.
My dog Monty isn’t my pet, he’s not my child, and I’m not his daddy. I treat him like a dog, and I respect the fact that he is a dog. He is my partner in life—respected as the full family member that he is. To that end, he’s got access to everything, including my bed and blankets (because let’s be honest, Miniature Pinschers love a warm blanket).
Until people learn to put away their ego and stop making the dog serve their convenience, they will keep running on the treadmill of dog training, looking for tools to dominate or bribes to manipulate.
If you want the dog you’ve always wanted, you don’t need a better trainer. You just need to strip away the ego, respect the dog’s innate purpose, and learn how to be a real partner.