The Weight We Carry: The Parts of Dog Training Nobody Sees
- Carey Bolduc

- 2 days ago
- 5 min read

When people find out I'm a dog trainer, they often smile and say something like, "That must be the best job ever. You get to play with puppies all day."
And sometimes, that's true.
I do get to celebrate puppy kisses, first recalls, and the joy of watching a fearful dog discover confidence. I get to witness families falling in love with their new companions and help people build relationships with the dogs they've always dreamed of having.
But that isn't the whole story.
There is another side to dog training that few people talk about.
The side that carries weight.
As dog trainers, Veterinarians, Behaviourist insist that we “stay in our lane” But the truth is that we stand at the intersection of all the places where human emotions and canine behaviour meet.
Dog Training Is About More Than Teaching Commands
Most people think dog trainers teach dogs to sit, stay, and walk politely on leash.
The truth is that we are often invited into some of the most vulnerable moments in a family's life.
We sit with people whose dog has bitten a child.
We consult with families whose dog has attacked another dog, a neighbour, a friend, and sometimes even killed another pet.
We help people navigate the devastating reality that the dog they deeply love may no longer be safe in their home.
We answer questions no one ever imagines they will have to ask:
"Can my dog ever be trusted again?"
"What if my child isn't safe?"
"How do I know when enough is enough?"
"How do I even begin to make this decision?"
These are not easy conversations.
There are no quick fixes.
Only compassion, education, honesty, and support.
Behavioural Euthanasia: The Conversation Nobody Wants
One of the heaviest responsibilities a dog trainer may face is discussing behavioural euthanasia and writing reports for a veterinary behaviourist to review.
No one brings home a puppy expecting to one day ask whether ending their dog's suffering is the kindest option.
Yet sometimes we work with dogs living in a constant state of fear, panic, or aggression so severe that their quality of life has disappeared.
Sometimes every management strategy has been exhausted.
Sometimes public safety is at risk.
Sometimes families are living behind locked doors, unable to have visitors, terrified that a mistake could have life-altering consequences.
Sometimes families have been the victim of a rescue that does not disclose the past dangerous behaviours in the past.
These conversations are heartbreaking.
The families involved often love their dogs deeply.
There are tears.
There is guilt.
There is grief.
And there is an immense amount of courage required to make impossible decisions.
Supporting Families Through Life's Hardest Moments
Dogs don't exist in isolation.
They live within families.
And families experience hardship.
Over the years, dog trainers witness people navigating:
Terminal diagnoses in their dogs and loved ones
Chronic illness
The loss of a spouse or parent
Financial hardship
Divorce and separation
Mental health struggles
Housing instability
The death of beloved pets
The declining health of aging dogs
Having to leave their dog to enter into a drug and alcohol recovery program or mental health facility.
Sometimes a dog begins struggling because their world has changed.
Sometimes owners are simply trying to survive while carrying burdens no one else can see.
Training plans often become about much more than training.
They become about meeting people where they are.
Offering grace.
Finding realistic solutions.
Helping people breathe again.
The Dogs the World Doesn't Understand
Not every dog can fit neatly into society's expectations.
Some dogs arrive carrying the weight of poor genetics.
Some dogs struggle from unethical breeders, and rescues - the dog parents had no idea how to identify red flags.
Others have experienced trauma.
Some struggle with neurological conditions that impact how they move through the world.
Dogs who may eliminate indoors despite everyone's best efforts.
Dogs whose compulsive behaviours aren't a result of "bad training."
Dogs who bounce between homes, rescues, and foster placements because no one fully understands what they're experiencing.
Dogs whose owners are exhausted, overwhelmed, and heartbroken.
Our role isn't always to fix these dogs.
Sometimes our role is to advocate for them.
To help owners understand that love does not cure neurological disease.
To help families adjust expectations.
To celebrate the smallest victories.
To create lives that are safer, kinder, and more manageable.
Sometimes success isn't perfection.
Sometimes success is simply helping everyone get through another day with a little more understanding.
Rehoming Without Judgment
Few decisions carry as much shame as rehoming a dog.
People fear being labelled irresponsible.
Selfish.
Heartless.
The reality is often far more complicated.
I've spoken with people facing serious illness.
People fleeing unsafe relationships.
People experiencing housing crises.
People caring for aging parents.
Families with children who are no longer safe around their dog.
Owners who have exhausted every financial, emotional, and practical resource they have.
Rehoming is never a decision that should be taken lightly.
But neither should we judge people without understanding the full story.
Sometimes helping someone find an appropriate new home for their dog is an act of responsibility and love.
Then We Welcome Home a Puppy
And then, almost without pause, we shift gears.
We celebrate first nights at home.
We teach puppies not to bite tiny fingers.
We help dogs stop jumping on Grandma and accidentally knocking her over.
We guide families through toilet training, crate training, leash walking, and adolescence.
We laugh.
We cheer.
We celebrate every small success.
The emotional whiplash can be profound.
At one appointment, we may be discussing whether a dog can safely remain in a home.
At the next, we're helping a family choose the right chew toy for their eight-week-old puppy.
Both matter.
Both deserve our full attention.
The Emotional Labour of Dog Training
Many trainers carry these stories long after the sessions end.
We replay difficult conversations.
We wonder whether we missed something.
We celebrate breakthroughs quietly.
We grieve outcomes we wish had been different.
We worry about dogs we've never forgotten.
Because while professionalism matters, compassion often drew us to this work in the first place.
And compassion has weight.
What I Wish More People Understood
Dog trainers are not therapists.
We are not veterinarians.
We are not miracle workers.
Again, we are told to stay in our lane but, I say it again again, we often stand at the intersection of all the places where human emotions and canine behaviour meet.
We educate.
We advocate.
We coach.
We support.
We protect public safety.
We preserve the human-animal bond whenever possible.
And when that bond cannot be preserved, we help people navigate the grief that follows.
So yes, sometimes I get paid to play with puppies.
But I also witness fear, heartbreak, resilience, guilt, hope, and love.
I help families through some of the most difficult decisions they will ever make regarding an animal they consider family.
Behind every sit, stay, and recall is a story.
And while much of this work happens quietly behind closed doors, it matters.
Because dog training has never been just about teaching dogs.
It's about helping people and the dogs they love find their way through life together.
Carey's Purpose: To create confident city dogs.
Mission: To enrich the quality of life for dogs and support their pet parents through all stages of development, from puppyhood through adolescence and maturity.
Vision: Effectively create, support, and implement a customized routine consisting of exercise, feeding, nutrition and obedience training using positive learning and clear communication both verbally and with body language.

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